Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Waking up in Freddy's storage room, now redecorated into his own room, is always a bit jarring. Gregory thinks he's going to be waking up thinking he's back in his box until he's 50, even if it's only been a few weeks. Still, he reorients himself quicker than the day before.

The clock, in view of both the bed and the door to Freddy's green room, shows that the Pizzaplex hasn't opened yet. In fact, it won't even close for a couple more hours. Gregory has been on a nocturnal sleep schedule since he got permission to live here, in order to avoid most of the open business hours where his dad is unavailable. 

Even sleeping 9 hours like Freddy told him is ideal for someone his age, that still leaves him alone for half of the 18 business hours though. And also is nothing like the snatches of sleep he got before.

Still, he does his best.

----------------------------

Going out of Freddy's door is obviously not an option, he can hear squeaky kid voices if he presses his ear against the door. That means he'll either have to go up the vent and pop out of the wall where people could potentially see him and the tarp might have been moved, or he could go down the repaired elevator to parts and service. Once in parts and service, he can't go up the stage, obviously, so he'll need to pick a band member or navigate the endo maze to find an exit in the maintenance halls.

Usually he would just escape through Monty's room, but Jessica had told him that Monty's room was repaired from his virus-induced fits, and he would be accepting room visits again. So that's officially out too.

Gregory pouts from where he's slumped under the clock, hands childishly tugging on the bottom of his large, Freddy-themed, hooded sweater. He's pretty sure that Jessica, one of the newly hired staff to prevent another "Afton Incident", whoever that is, designed it specifically for him. She's probably the one he's closest too, mostly since she's Vanessa's replacement over nightshift. 

Thinking it over again, he glances down at the watch that had become a permanent fixture on his wrist, pushing the large sleeve out of the way. Dismissing the usual message congratulating him on sleeping, he notices a message from some dayshift worker.

Hey i ws told by Jess that u need a new method of escape? Uh

Well i cant think of anythin permanint but i DO know that the chicken got into some messy situarion today

U should be able t go thru her room :)

Ye i just double checked her rooms free today for cleaning shit

Stuff

I said stuff

Please dont egey m fired

Gregory snorts, mostly over Darryl thinking he has the power to get him fired, partially over Darryl thinking he'd get fired over cursing.

Still, at least he now has a solution to his problem. Going inside the elevator, Gregory shoves his hand over his mouth to cover a yawn. Humming the elevator music, and wondering why there is any in these elevators, it lowers.

The door opens to light hearted banter, as per usual

"Well maybe…! If you had read the manual -!"

" I'LL READ YOUR MOM! "

"GASP!"

"Did he seriously just say gasp out loud."

"Isn't Patrice engaged-?"

"To Quincey's mom apparently."

Gregory slips into Chica’s elevator, unnoticed except for Jordan, who waves at him without looking up.

Looking around Chica's back room, he can't help but take notice of how much nicer it is. Looking around, it's like Chica herself tried to clean it. There's still some scattered papers on the ground that Gregory himself would struggle with peeling off of the ground, let alone Chica's massive metal hands.

Pressing his ear to the green room door, he hears nothing. No loud, frankly annoying children clambering for attention. Perfect. 

The door opens to reveal a significantly bigger mess than he expected, but one that makes sense considering they locked out the kids. There's some slick substance running down the walls, which looks vaguely fuzzy in a nauseating way. The centerpiece of the room has to be Chica herself though. At least she doesn't look as bad as she had after the sewers, but he can understand why lesser traumatized children would be put off by her.

She turns unsettlingly fast, eyes wide in a way that has him shuffling backwards. Confession time… he hasn't exactly gone anywhere near the other animatronics yet. Monty is always in his attraction when he has free time, so Gregory has never had to worry about it.

"Oh! Lost boy, you've come at such a bad time! The room is not a safe play area right now." Her head swivels to stare at the fuzzy slimy stuff. "I think we might need biohazard bags. Scan shows substance putting something into the air."

Gregory's entire face scrunches inwards in distaste. "Uh. Yeah. Great, love potential lung diseases. Always a great pastime."

She turns to face him fully, and Gregory just barely doesn't flinch. Something about the way she moves is still… wrong. Not virus wrong, but still unnatural. Unlike the way Freddy moves, which is occasionally inhuman but still natural. The best way he can describe the way Chica moves is… too graceful. Like every move is calculated and only wastes minimal energy.

He once overheard a mechanic, probably Byte, complaining about the "uncanny valley" that hits human brains in just the wrong way. Gregory doesn't exactly know what it is, but based on context clues, he'll guess it describes Chica's movements. But then again, the other kids don't seem to notice it. Maybe they just aren't human.

"Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for any potential illnesses, injuries, or deaths that may occur on their properties."

Chica says it in such a matter of fact tone, Gregory can't help but stare at her, raising an eyebrow.

She blinks at him. He blinks back.

…

' Is she not going to say anything? '

Usually Freddy makes a coughing sound after, before explaining that it's a protocol and apologizing. He once confided to Gregory that having the words ripped from his voice box is uncomfortable, putting strain on the gears.

Apparently Chica disagrees.

' Whatever. This room is a hazard anyway. '

Gregory grumbles under his breath, before pushing his way out of her door.

"Goodbye Gregory! Have a faz-errific day!"

' Gross. '

----------------------------

With Freddy occupied and Chica's room a mess, Gregory really has no reason to stick around Rockstar Row. He decides to head up to that arcade with the spider DJ. He's been up there before, but mostly avoided the DJ. This time… well he already had an interaction with Chica. Might as well go the full nine yards.

On the way there, he pulls up his watch again

Yo uh

Apparently i should not have sent u to Chica's. 

Hope u don't get a lung infection

Peace

Gregory rolls his eyes.' Thanks, Darryl .'

His watch buzzes thrice in rapid succession and draws back his attention.

Ey is this gonna get me fired

I swear i dindt do ut on ppurouse

How tf u spell porpose

Gregory lets his arm fall back to his side, sighing as he walks into the arcade. His wrist keeps buzzing, but he stares vacantly at someone else's shoes instead of looking.

It's really not a long climb, so Gregory quickly exits. Instead of sticking firmly left like usual, he walks to the right, leaning against the wall when he spots the DJ.

The massive spider-like animatronic is doing the same dance move it did before. If he hadn't seen it crawling around that night, he would've thought the other limbs were just for show. Still, just like Chica, the movements are too… practiced. Like the DJ is stuck in a loop of his own making, no struggle or variation to be found. Looking at the dance floor, he can see the adults dancing with their kids, moving unpredictably yet rhythmically. Then he looks back at the animatronic.

Again, he feels like there is a better word to describe the movement but it just isn't clicking. Whatever they have, it's something that Freddy lacks. Or the opposite, something Freddy has that none of them do. 

Suddenly, the massive musical spider turns his head to stare right at Gregory. An intense shiver racks his spine, lips pulling into a line at his discomfort. The hand that had been ghosting the records lifts, waving at him.

Something deep inside Gregory protests heavily at the sight. Maybe it's the newfound arachnophobia, maybe it's whatever noticed the difference between them and Freddy, or maybe it's the trauma from that night that he still hasn't gotten over. He sure doesn't know, not when all he's focusing on is his sudden nausea. 

He didn't even get breakfast yet. Or, dinner really.

There's still hours until the plex closes, but all Gregory really wants is Freddy next to him, sending away the memories of the others' unnatural movements.

Gregory nods back at the DJ, subtly pressing his arm against his rebelling stomach and grabbing his opposite arm tight with his hand.

He debates going back to the bathrooms, but the possible state of the inside makes him quickly reconsider. If he makes them lose money because he publicly threw up, he'd probably get kicked out.

Bringing his attention back to the animatronic, he finds the DJ back in the loop of his own creation. Still, no one else seems to register how… artificial it all looks. With the way the DJ had been laser-focused on him, he thought he would've seen Gregory's current plight. 

Maybe he doesn't have the same child-related programs as the Glamrocks.

Straightening his back, Gregory presses his arm further into his stomach, and turns back for the elevator. 

He doesn't feel like playing any of the arcade games anymore.

----------------------------

Its purpose

But i was super close tho

Sometimes Gregory wishes he could send messages through the watch. He would totally be making fun of Daryll if he could.

After sitting on the ground of the bathroom near the fountain to the daycare, one rarely used thanks to the bathrooms right in front of the daycare and entrance, Gregory had finally deemed his stomach settled enough and left to actually get some food. Freddy would be proud if he wasn't incredibly busy being the main star of the show.

Now fully fed on the employee meal, which is surprisingly not that bad, Gregory is sitting inside of kids cove. It's really not a very popular attraction, especially since the main animatronic has only been a cardboard character for all of Gregory's life. It’s mostly turned into a secluded hideout for teenagers who get dragged inside. The TV inside the boat is playing some horror movie, based on the sounds hidden beneath the general bustle of the plex.

Tapping his feet on the floor of the dusty lighthouse, Gregory goes over the objectives he decided on for the day.

Meeting the rest of the crew.

Being forced across Chica was the trigger, and so far he has only met the big guy. He also needs Monty, Roxy, and those Daycare Creeps. Thinking it over, he kinda wants to wait to have Freddy or Jessica there for the Daycare Attendants, which leaves the two animatronics who would lunge at him to try and catch him.

His face screws up. At least he already has two proofs of concept that he won't be hurt, and that he's already finished with the fastest runner, Chica. 

Roxy Raceway is still under construction, and Roxy would never miss a moment to be praised, so she's likely still surrounded by kids. Monty though… he might be on the catwalks in Monty Golf. Robots can get overwhelmed, right? The sunny one probably can at least.

Whatever. 

Leaving Kid's Cove, Gregory just walks up the stairs to cross the walkway before walking back down them into Monty Golf. Unlike attractions like Fazerblast, there is no line for the elevator. The worker standing in the section next to it, to print out emergency party passes if needed, waves at Gregory without looking up from her phone.

Wondering whether or not there's ever been an emergency to get to golfing, Gregory steps onto another elevator. There's a lot of elevators in the plex. Exiting to the usual growling noises, his eyes roam skyward.

Not that far away are stairs to the catwalks, which he has access to. It would've been so much easier if he had access on that night so he wouldn't have to navigate that stupid maze, but he did not. Up on the catwalks, Monty sits. His tail sways idly on the ground behind him, head tilted down. Despite this, Gregory instantly meets red eyes staring at him.

Sighing, he walks up to the gater.

"Y'know, this place ain't usually open to guests." 

Gregory turns towards him, eyes catching on the lightning bolt on his snout. Gregory always forgets that it's there, it gets lost in the rest of his busy design. Gregory may not be a very good artist, but even he knows he could redesign them to look better.

Maybe if he asks they'll let him.

"Well, I'm not exactly a guest now am I? I actually live here, like you." Gregory rolls his eyes, using it as an excuse to tear them away from the offending art.

Montgomery growls at him, focus changing from the crowd to him, then back. His tail is still making the same movements, the DJ's arm.

Gregory saw more than his fair share of alley cats, and actually got pretty good at befriending them. He has been swarmed by friendly dogs in parks. He's messed with lizards to the point of accidently pulling off multiple tails.

Gregory knows his tail related body language. Lizards tend to let gravity take the wheel when it comes to their tails. Dogs wag them when happy and tuck them in when scared. Cats flick them when angry, playful, or relaxed.

He's pretty sure that alligators only use their tails for swimming, similar treatment to lizards. But what Monty is doing is more similar to a cat. Even then, cats only ever hit the same spot with their tail twice if it's your face. They move their tails like an unfurling finger. Even then, Monty isn't doing that.

It's like Monty is purposely moving it just for the sake of it being moved.

Gregory jumps when Monty opens his mouth again, but he only moves it in a circular motion like his tail. His head follows the same pattern after a few seconds.

Well, now it looks like he's stretching in the most inefficient way possible. His shoulders, his elbows, his wrists, his torso pieces, one leg before the other…

It clicks in Gregory's head.

Monty is making sure his joints don't lock up from staying still too long.

His brow furrows as he stares into the foliage. Has Freddy ever done that? He can't… think of anything. Monty can't have been here for over half an hour and Gregory has hung around Freddy for hours uninterrupted before. He's seen Freddy stumbling after sitting and stretching his joints before, but never this calculated and unnatural swivel. Freddy stretched like a person, locking his fingers and arching his back or putting his hands behind his head and turning his midsection. 

If he remembers that first night correctly… Freddy would stand pretty still when hovering over Gregory. Meanwhile the other robots were constantly moving. They bobbed like anime characters, swaying from side to side like a fighting game. When Roxy would sniff her whole head moved dramatically. Chica would sway when eating.

Freddy would shift a lot, yes, but it's not the same. Freddy shifted his weight from foot to foot when waiting in the elevator, he would tap his fingers against his thighs, he would idly scan their surroundings. Those weren't calculated moves to unlock joints, those were him subconsciously moving as he waited.

Gregory frowns. Is he overthinking this? Maybe he was just seeing life in the lifeless, but… it just feels too correct for him. His gut is telling him that he's right.

"Why are you still here? You planning on building a nest or somethin?" Monty eyes him, distain clear and purposeful in his gaze. "Gotta say, there's more than enough leaves for it. Not that much extra room though." 

The words sound weird, like a prerecorded message. ' They probably are, for kids who stay in the attraction a bit late .'

"Nah, I've already got a nest. Papa bear wouldn't be happy if his cub got stolen. Bye, Lizard."

" Alligator. " 

With the way he hissed out the word, Gregory's hand itched for his blaster.

He climbed down the catwalks with no incident.

----------------------------

After all his planning for Monty, he genuinely had no clue what the plan would be for Roxy. He doesn't know how much of her personality had been the virus, and doesn't exactly look forward to being called a loser.

His feet bring him to the salon. Not first obviously, he's been wandering aimlessly for long enough that the place is slowly emptying. It's almost closing, and Gregory definitely doesn't want to risk being near any non-Freddy animatronic after closing.

Still, Gregory plays some weird game in the back, completes it easily, and walks to the front only to see Roxy doing some kid's makeup. Her tail is wagging behind her, and everytime a kid gets close enough to potentially jar her working arm, she nudges them away. She still has a group of them clutching her legs and spinning around her.

He can't imagine functioning like that without accidently stepping on one.

Still, he leans against the wall and watches. Maybe he'll never get to actually talk to her again without drawing too much attention to himself, but at least he can get used to her presence and cool down his adrenaline at the sound of her voice.

"Oh and let me guess, purple eyeshadow?"

The kid stifles her giggles before calling out a denial.

Roxy straightens, gasping in a dramatically offended fashion. " Betrayal ?? By my own self-proclaimed coolest fan?"

Her tail speeds up behind her. 

Gregory raises an eyebrow. Honestly, Roxy seems to be moving a lot better than Chica, Monty, and the DJ combined. He's not sure whether to count it though, all too aware of the children surrounding her. Maybe they act differently around guests?

The child giggles louder as Roxy puts on a show, her eyes shining as she presses a hand to her chest.

"Next thing I know, you'll be asking for one pink eye, like a Chica fan…" her voice wobbles convincingly.

"No! No no no nou nou nouno… nu uh!"

Roxy's shoulders bounce, a strange movement since she doesn't breathe, but one he's seen Freddy make. But why would she be different? He's starting to believe in that performing-for-kids mode more now. No one was paying attention to the DJ or Monty, and Chica was in lockdown. The only problem with that theory is that he's watched Freddy over the cameras before, and eyed him around corners to make sure he was alone. Freddy is always moving like that. It's not a performance for Freddy. It's natural.

His lips thin into a line. Watching Roxy has only made him more confused.

"I wants- uh- want da- the gray! Like your fur! Pretty fur color so very very pretty…" the kid dissolves into happy gibberish, oblivious to the growing smile on Roxy's face.

Gregory watches Roxy apply multiple layers of the eyeshadow to the girl's dark skin, before gathering all of the kids and racing them, presumably to the entrance hall due to the time.

…

' Well that didn't help anything except Roxy's insecurities ."

----------------------------

----------------------------

One day, when Jessica had been hired, Gregory and Freddy had been playing hide and seek. It was her first day, and she had walked into the room to find a child hiding under the counter, giggling. He had matched the picture management had given her, so she introduced herself. The next day he hadn't been there, and she had pouted her whole shift.

Sitting under the counter, waiting for Jessica to show up at midnight, is just another routine at this point.

She opens the door, loudly whooping before throwing her car keys onto the table in the middle of the room. She sprays her arms out like an invitation, a large grin spreading across her face. "Where's my favorite insufferable child!?" 

Gregory cackles, kicking the chair out of his way before launching at her. She laughs loudly, freely. Her hands catch him around the waist and one leg lifts to spin them in circles. Everytime he does this, he can't help but compare the sound to his first midnight in the pizzaplex. His old shoes squeaking against the floor as he shouts in dismay, running towards the closing doors.

It's such a stark difference, but the real kicker is the lanyard under his sweater that lets him leave whenever he wants.

And he feels no need to use it.

Finally, Jessica sets him down, stumbling from spinning him. Still giggling under her breath, she slaps her hands on her thighs before slumping to the ground. Her curly black hair falling in messy clumps around her head, she meets his eyes again.

"So! Anything to share today, Gremlin?"

Gregory stops, pursing his lips and looking off to the side as he thinks. He might've accidentally turned his objective from talking to the animatronics to investigating their movement… and that's really all he did today.

"I think something is wrong with the robots."

Jessica freezes, blinking at him. "Like… Afton Virus wrong or gum-got-stuck-in-all-of-their-joints wrong? Cuz those are two very different problems which both need the mechanics that just clocked out. And I'm not qualified for coding stuff. Or old gum, ew. Have you ever tried to stash gum somewhere to chew it later like that girl from that old Willy Wonka movie? That gum must've been absolutely disgusting."

"Willy Wonka?"

"First of all, crime , second of all it's not important and I'll force you to watch it later. Animatronics having an issue is more pressing to me."

"Oh. It's not  'Afton Virus' levels of panic, no, I just noticed something-"

Jessica exhales roughly, placing her hands on his shoulders. "- Oh thank whatever god you believe in- Gregory don't scare me like that -"

"-I just nOTICED!" He glares at her for interrupting before continuing. "That Freddy moves differently than all of the others. Freddy moves super… human, forgetting his limbs lock up and stumbling. He coughs when protocol demands he say something, fidgets and hums to himself, the whole package! But the others are so much more… noticeably robotic. Chica stated the protocol about sickness and just… stared at me."

Jessica scrunches her face in, thinking. "Well… that sounds uncomfortable. And also like a problem for the mechanics that, again, literally just clocked out ."

Gregory frowns. His hands raise to flail and gesture as he talks. "I'm not trying to get the issue fixed, I'm trying to understand why it's even an issue! What makes Freddy's movement so much more advanced? Why are the others so… so…"

His hands move rapidly back and forth before falling, limp. ' Oh. That's the word. That's it .'

"Mechanical? It's like Freddy is just a guy who happens to be an animatronic, not an animatronic guy like the others! And it doesn't make sense, they were all made at the same time!"

Eyes glistening with frustrated tears, Gregory directs his scowl towards the only people in the room with him, only for it to drop when he sees her shocked face.

"...What? Was it something I said?" Gregory tilts his head, eyes boring into her.

Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly before words force themselves out of it.

"Gregory are you implying that the possession rumors are fucking REAL !?"

"The what-!"

Chapter Text

"Freddy, what do you know about possession?"

Freddy chokes, or at least makes similar noises while pressing a hand to his upper torso. Seeing Freddy again after spending the whole work time around his friends really cemented how different Freddy acts from them.

"Uhm, possession? Like in movies, Superstar? Have you been watching them with Officer Jessica again?"

Gregory waves his arms around, "No, no. Well, yeah later but that's Willy Wonka and that probably doesn't have possession in it."

Freddy's eyes slowly slide to stare at Gregory. "... Probably ?"

"Well I wouldn't know, I've never watched it."

Freddy slumps inward, shoulders hunching. One foot shifts to rest on the other, ankles making a clicking noise. "Superstar, anyone ever could tell that you haven't watched it, since you think there could be even a small possibility of possession. It's a story about a crazy successful yet secretive chocolate factory that opens its doors to let a small, select group of children tour it for one day."

Gregory blinks up at Freddy. Even sitting down, the animatronic still dwarfs him in height. "Huh. Sounds sorta like Fazbear Entertainment."

" What -? I-" Freddy shakes his head harshly before staring at the ceiling. Gregory can see the gears spinning in his mind, something he could never see with the other animatronics. "Gregory. If Fazbear Entertainment was in charge of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, it would be open all the time, to everyone."

Gregory nods, conceding to the point. Then he freezes. "Wait- hold on a second… you changed the subject!"

Under the weight of Gregory's accusing finger, Freddy darts his eyes away. Gregory gasps loudly and dramatically. "Using my lack of movie knowledge and natural curiosity against me! For shame, Freddy, for shame."

"I… am truly sorry, Superstar."

Gregory can't get over how sad Freddy looks everytime he apologizes. He curls inward, ears drooping, eyes dropping to the floor. He looks like a kid getting scolded for the first time. It never fails to make Gregory feel slightly guilty, and yet the dumb bear isn't even doing it on purpose!

"Whatever, it's not that big a deal. Now, what I was trying to talk about is whether or not you are possessed."

Freddy jerks, voice box glitching slightly. It doesn't sound like his voice anymore, though Gregory can't place why. "There-! ha- have been nooo ooo death-s at Fred- ed- eddy Fazbe- bears over the yearrrrrrrssssss . No ani-! matronics have ev- ev- ever been poss ssssssss essed." 

Freddy's back straightens, hands moving up to press against his throat as more glitchy cough-like noises escape from the voice box. Gregory leans over and pats his hand on his metal back, taking a second to stare at his dwarfed hand. Freddy is just so big , and yet he gives off the vibes of someone thinner. The broad shoulders just feel kinda wrong.

Now that he knows about the possession theory… maybe there's a reason for it. Maybe whoever possesses Freddy is thin, with small shoulders. The height of him has never seemed strange, so maybe Freddy is possessed by an absolute bean pole of a man.

"Ok. I get it. So you totally aren't possessed? Definitely?" Gregory feels a smirk working itself across his lips, already pretty much convinced that he's right. 

Freddy turns, rolling his eyes with a fond smile as he takes in Gregory's expression. "Oh, yes. There has definitely never been a single problem ever in these establishments."

Gregory got chased by a murderous bunny lady like 3 or 4 weeks ago.

So Freddy is definitely possessed.

Sick!

…but wouldn't that mean his name isn't actually Freddy? That's the animatronic's name, yeah, but not the guy's!

"Hey, does the name ever bother you?" Gregory looks up to meet Freddy's eyes. Knowing what he now does, Gregory is almost shocked that he hadn't connected the dots earlier. Freddy is so obviously not artificial. Now, Freddy's eyebrows are raised and his eyes are kind. Genuine emotions that he couldn't see in Chica, even if the other kids could.

"It… took a bit to get used to, yes. However, it is the only name anyone knows now." 

Gregory backs up, taking in all of Freddy's body language. He looks… sad. Gregory can understand, he doesn't know how he would feel if he suddenly woke up, looking completely different, being a completely different shape, probably sounding different, and being called a different name.

"Completely unrelated topic, but what's your favorite name?" Gregory tilts his head innocently, eyes wide and genuine. Freddy meets them with shock in his gaze.

"Well, I would have to say that my favorite name is Gregory…" Freddy pokes Gregory in the side, and he giggles helplessly. "However, my second favorite name would be… Michael. I used to hear that a lot of smart ladies name their kids that."

"Michael…" Gregory rolls the name across his tongue, testing it out. Freddy- or Michael?- shudders next to him, an almost unnoticeable movement. "Would you rather if I… at least in private?"

If Gregory didn't know better, he'd say the bear's eyes looked wet.

"I- Yes . Gosh- yes. Please. Gregory I-. Want that more than anything."

"Ok then. Nice to meet you, Michael."

Michael smiles, ears raising and eyes squinting inward.

"Nice to meet you, Gregory."

----------------------------

Jessica jumps, cursing as the door to the Lost and Found is thrown open with a bang.

"Jessica!"

"Holy SHIT Gregory! Don't fuckin do that!

"Sorry, but I talked to him!"

Jessica turns to blink at him, her curly hair bouncing right into her eyes. "Who??"

"The person possessing the Freddy animatronic! Got his name and everything." Gregory smiles, pointing his thumb at himself. With his missing tooth, it looks far more adorable than he knows. Jessica would melt if she wasn't still so confused.

"What? We talked about possession like… three hours ago?"

The kid nods. "Yeah, and then I went and hung out with him. Asked him some questions, had lunch, took a small accidental nap, and now I'm here!" He smiles. Suddenly Jessica remembers that kids often have very small filters, if any. Of course he would just ask Freddy if there was a dead guy controlling him.

"His name is Michael y'know, he nearly cried when I offered to call him that. Are animatronic capable of crying? I know that Roxy does a lot of sobbing but I'm talking full on tears. I've never heard Chica or Monty do anything like that though…"

Jessica pulls her head out of her hands to look at the boy. Suddenly, she's having a lot of revelations. "How do you think Michael got into Freddy?"

Gregory meets her eyes before shrugging. "I dunno. Possession is about your spirit but Michael's so sad sometimes that I don't think he has a lot of it."

Oh.

Gregory doesn't know that Michael died. And also hasn't connected that Roxy is also probably possessed. 

Jessica slams her head into the desk, ignoring Gregory's shouts of surprise.

Chapter Text

Gregory sits outside of the vent to the Lost and Found. So far they've discovered that the best way for him to act naturally is to join the crowds after the gates. At such an early time in the morning, you'd think there wouldn't be a big rush to get in. Clearly you'd be thinking wrong, as the Pizzaplex is a major tourist attraction and it's Saturday.

Looking at the crowd waiting to start signing in, Gregory can already see tired adults being shaken by their enthusiastic crotch goblins, a few excited adults whining at their tired partners, someone who is visibly just here to steal shit, and Harold the Teenage Mechanic Volunteer who is clearly unamused and stuck in the crowd. Harold, like every morning, is holding two of the largest cups of coffee that Gregory has ever seen, one for him and one for the Head Mechanic, Jordan.

Briefly Gregory considers just leaving to go down to Parts and Service and staying there till he has to go to bed, but shakes the thought out of his head. He is on a mission! He has to blend into the crowd and then follow Roxy around! There were a few boys in the crowd around Roxy before closing, so it wouldn't be too odd. After all, Roxy has a race track.

According to what he's overheard, the hole isn't a sinkhole. It was a whole lot of undocumented explosions that sunk the old building deep into the ground. Some of the explosives didn't go off, sitting as duds along the edges. Still, they filled it and buried the memories of that place deep underground. Soon the racetrack will be finished.

The intercom clicks on, sending out the daily prerecorded message, and the people start flooding inside. Gregory easily slips into the crowd, following one girl with a highlight in her hair and press-on nails, both green. She keeps bouncing on her feet while holding onto her mom, jerking her mom around. The mom has a matching pink streak in her hair, contrasting her mostly sophisticated air.

They walk straight to Rockstar Row. They find Roxy and Chica talking, Chica leaning into Roxy's door as Roxy sits at her vanity. Chica seems stiff, and Roxy looks bored and irritated.

Eventually, her eyes catch on the rapidly approaching children and she shoos the chicken away. She leaves the door open, letting the children come inside as they please. Her eyes catch on Gregory's, where she briefly tilts her head in confusion, before moving on to the other kids that grab her attention. One kid tries to grab for her make up and she gently lifts them onto her lap instead, saying she can paint their face at the salon after the concert.

Gregory is starting to get a vague sense of her daily schedule. The parents had put the photo passes into a slot by the door before leaving to go where another child wanted or lingering nearby. Some looked unsure, which is probably because Roxy is the only one that leaves her door open. Then she'll go off for races and birthday parties, the concert, then her salon. All in all, it's a pretty flexible schedule, and as long as no one gets hurt or stuck inside then management won't care.

It's actually pretty similar to Freddy's schedule. Chica doesn't host a lot of parties, and Monty doesn't hold any, so they mostly oversee their attractions. Roxy also doesn't hold that many birthdays, Freddy getting the brunt as the fan favorite, but her percentage has been slowly increasing according to Daryll. 

Roxy laughs, breaking him out of his thoughts. "I get that you really wanna wear matching lipstick with me, but have you ever seen your mommy over there try to eat with lipstick on?"

The girl he followed in turns to look at her mom, before exploding her arms out. "Everywhere!" 

Roxy nods. "I'm sure you don't wanna eat pizza with a side of wax lipstick, right Pipsqueak?"

The kid giggles, and it's only then that he realizes she's the same kid who wanted gray eyeshadow. His eyes raise to the neon green streak in her hair. The streak which wasn't there the day before. Was her mom a wizard or something? 

"M not da- a Pipe Squa- Squeak!" 

Roxy taps her nose with her finger, careful with her claws. "I dunno, you seem small enough for it. So small… I think I could just-!" Raxy laughs as she suddenly surges to her feet, lifting the girl into the air. "Take you up with me! You weigh nothing ! Lighter than air!"

The kids on the floor start clamoring for their turns, voices loud and giggly. Roxy laughs before sitting the kid around her neck, legs thrown over her shoulders and hair trapped underneath her. The kid's hands go straight to her ears, which flick when her hands get close but stop when contact is made. The second one she lifts is a small boy, who gets briefly tossed into the air. One by one, she lifts the children into the air.

Finally she lays her eyes on him again. He flinches slightly as she draws closer, only for her to crouch in front of him. "Hey kid, you wanna fly too?"

In his shock, he nods. He yelps slightly, laughter ripped from his throat as his feet kick slightly in the air. Roxy tosses him only slightly, just enough for his hair to flop around without the warmth of her hands leaving his sides.

"You wanna go higher, Bear Cub?"

Gregory nods helplessly, a smile plastered on his face against his will. His stomach is starting to hurt from laughing.

When he's finally let down, he's still giggling from the adrenaline rush, his already wavy hair an absolute mess around his head. Roxy keeps one hand on his shoulder.

"Alright! Everyone has had a turn, who wants some food!"

A large part of the group raises their hands, others yelling "Yes!" or "Me!" as loud as they can. A small amount starts rambling about what they had for breakfast. 

Roxy raises her other hand. "Majority rules! We're going to the atrium and we're gonna get some FOOD!" Some of the more tired adults wince running hands over their stomachs. They must've gotten woken up too early to remember to feed themselves or their kids.

Roxy leads the charge, Pipsqueak on her shoulders and Gregory on her side. The other kids trail behind her, their parents behind them. As they reach the atrium, the group separates slightly. Parents grab their children so they can buy food. They dodge the kids who had come with party passes instead of photo passes, who had run straight into the various games when they passed through the atrium on the way to Rockstar Row. Soon, Roxy is only leading Gregory and Pipsqueak.

She chuckles when they're alone. "Wow, kids sure do love me, huh?"

Pipsqueak nods happily into Roxanne's scalp, her face ruffling the wolf's hair. "So so so so so so cool! Bestest animal-tronic!"

Gregory puts his hand on Roxy's, gaining her attention. He points up at the small girl. "Shouldn't she be in the daycare? She's like… four."

"Nuh uh! I'm is four and tree- three um. Pieces!"

Gregory blinks. "Quarters?"

"Thas coins, Silly." 

Roxy stifles her laughter into her hand, getting glared at by Gregory for her troubles. "Nah, Pipsqueak here is banned from the daycare. She threw too many tantrums wanting to see me, so now I'm her daycare. It's not costing us anything and she naps during concert time, so it works out for everyone."

"Oh. I'm also banned from the daycare."

Roxy nods. "Yeah, says it on your guest profile. You were only in there for like, half an hour? How'd you get banned?"

Gregory bites at his lip. "Accidently turned off the lights even though I was nowhere near a lightswitch. Nearly got…" Roxy tenses. "...y'know."

Roxy relaxes. Just like Michael does when Gregory narrowly avoids setting off a prerecorded message. He squints at her before jumping.

"Yous saw da- the Moonman? I knows someone who knew de Moonman… he says moony suuuper scawry. Eyes like uhm. Gater! Not blue, I like da color blue it's mama's car color… mama has such a PRETTY color car…it's all like da sky but I don't see da sky a whole lot 'ny more cuz I'm in here wid da Roxy. 'Nd mama says dat I only go to Roxy cuz her name is easy bud das not true. You has da- the Freddy on your shirt! Is he your fav-or-ite?"

Gregory blinks, parsing through the baby babble. "Yeah, he's my favorite."

Roxy laughs. "And you're his, Freddy's little Bear Cub. His favorite fan. Now, what do you guys want to eat? I'll take care of it."

----------------------------

The management had given him a gold card to use as he pleases, but getting free food through Roxy just feels different. Using the gold card is like paying for himself, but Roxy is an adult.

Or maybe it's because, instead of grabbing the food and dipping to try and sneak back into his room, he's sat down at one of the tables, bracketed between Roxy and Pipsqueak. Noise surrounds him, other kids sitting at their table while their parents sit nearby. It's a new sort of atmosphere, one he's never really gotten to experience. 

Eventually all of the kids are done again, and Roxy shepherds them into the west arcade. Half of the kids run straight to the DJ, most of the rest push and shove to reach their favorite arcade game first. Gregory scans the arcade games, trying to think of one he hasn't played yet. 

Suddenly, he perks up and turns to Roxy. "There's a game in the back, I played the first one before closing but that's the second one. Can I go finish it real quick?"

Pipsqueak bounces on Roxy's shoulders, and she lifts one hand to hold them in place. "Da back is off… no al-lowed! No no no no no no no going back is not all-ow-ed."

Roxy hums, hips swaying as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. "But that machine you're talking about, Princess Quest II, it's not in the back, right Cub? Then of course you can go play it, duh. Just come back when you're done."

Princess Quest II is as far in the back as it could possibly be.

Gregory nods, grabbing Roxy's free hand with both of his and shaking it like a business deal. Still, he manages to get into the back unnoticed and play the game. 

Pulling up the security cameras on his watch, he makes sure no one is nearby before leaving the room and returning to Roxy's side, like he promised.

It's while he's winning against her in a racing game that he decides to speak again.

"Hey, how long do you think it'll take for your racetrack to be finished?"

Raxy glances at him, briefly pausing her growls at the machine. "Well… they finished filling the massive hole underneath it last week, and are almost done with the track, so probably soon? I haven't been there recently, can't bring Pipsqueak into a construction zone. Say what you will about Fazbear Entertainment, but they do work fast."

Gregory nods, glancing at her. "Yeah, sometimes it's freaky how fast they work." Gregory hadn't been paying attention at the time, more focused on the closing doors, but the intercom had mentioned three days of scheduled maintenance. After those three days, all of the animatronics looked good as new.

Next to him, Roxy mutters an insult at the machine, tail slapping the side of the chair in her anger, and Gregory laughs.

----------------------------

Back in Roxy's room, the door is closed behind them this time. Roxy delicately removes Pipsqueak from her shoulders, laying her sleeping form on the couch and laying a small, Roxanne-themed blanket on her. Pipsqueak mumbles in her sleep, curling into the blanket. Roxy slumps in a sigh of relief, wiping some of her lunch off her face, before straightening as she turns to him. The whole time, her tail wags behind her.

Now that it's just them, a familiar anxiety creeps back in and he shuffles on his feet. She stops a few feet away before sitting on the ground, tilting her head.

"Gregory… I don't really remember what happened on that night."

His head jerks up, meeting her eyes. He hadn't actually expected her to talk about it… Chica and Monty sure hadn't. Then again, Gregory has been interacting with her the same way he does with Michael this whole morning.

He's not sure what to think about that.

"The last thing I remember is… an anger. I was so so angry for no reason. It scared me. Then, I think I remember getting injured, and having a billion warning notifications about damage, but nothing after or before it is clear. I remember waking up, being told I had a virus and was hardly functional before they fixed me. And that we now were housing a child in the building. Gregory… did I do something to you? You wouldn't just… incapacitate me for no reason, right?"

Gregory clenches his fist, staring at the ground. "...I… only came in for some food, maybe shelter if I could hide long enough. Then he glitched on stage and I was being chased by Vanessa… she turned all of you against me since she also had the virus in her brain."

Roxy straightens from where she was slouching to his height. "Officer Vanessa had it too? That… explains some more. She came in sometime before closing, said… something? And… I think she did something to me before leaving. That's when the anger started building. Dunno how a human had a robot virus… but knowing Afton, I'm not all that surprised."

Gregory pouts. "People keep mentioning this 'Afton' guy but they won't tell me who he is! Or, was-?" He squeaks as Roxy places her massive hands on both of his shoulders, much like Jessica only a few hours before.

"William Afton was a co-founder for the first animatronic location, named Fredbear's Diner. He was the founder of Afton Robotics. He was basically the creator of Fazbear Entertainment, since they used all of his designs. Every animatronic ever, barring the ones at this plex, were designed by him." Roxy hesitates. "He was also a crazy child murderer."

Instantly her voice box glitches out and her hands snap off of his shoulders to press against her throat. "There- have be- en no d- d- deathssssss at Freddyyy FazbEars o-er the years. No o… "

She slumps, hands dragging on the ground. "...Ow."

Gregory squints at her before dropping it. He'll deal with it later, answers are more important.

"Did he make the virus? Actually he'd be like. Super old. Wasn't Fredbear's back in the seventies?"

Roxy tilts her head. "He didn't make it, he was the virus. And I think he'd be like… in his nineties. Yeah, ninety-three. Old man in my brain, ew."

Gregory chuckles, "So does that mean that William Afton is the rabbit in the basement? Inside the hole in your Raceway. The one they filled."

She hums, "Was he all gross and fleshy?"

"There were some stringy bits in the endo…?"

"Yeah, that was him. Imagine what his kids would say if they saw him like that." Roxy laughs, looking down towards her tail. Gregory however, gapes. His voice comes out as an incredulous whisper.

"He has kids ?"

Roxy swiftly stands to her feet. "This is not a conversation to be having around a sleeping child." She presses her hands to his back and corrals him into her back room. Just like Chica's, this one is significantly cleaner than before. Unlike Chica's, the room is fitted out for a child, similarly to Michael’s. 

There's a bed near the charging station, fitted out with a fluffy blanket the same color as her fur. There's a red carpet on the floor, clearly tended to lovingly. Every step smells like lavender, which doesn't help the fact that Gregory should've been asleep three hours ago. Roxy's body language makes it very clear that if she could blush, she would be.

"It- um. I just thought that if it could happen once it could happen again so don't look into it!"

Gregory laughs, eyes slipping further closed then he really wanted, before waving it off. "Definitely not looking into it. Afton children?"

Roxy sighs. "He had three. All of them… left… before they turned twenty-five."

' Died . They all died before they could even grow up .'

Gregory takes a deep breath before sitting on the floor.

"Tell me about them."

----------------------------

Michael always gets a small break from the children before a concert. Of course, the numbers dwindle considerably around lunch, but not everyone has lunch at the same time. Still, he uses this small break to check in on Gregory, go down to Parts and Service, and get ready on the lift. Walking into his backroom, he finds Roxanne holding a sleeping Gregory, clearly walking towards his bed. She freezes like a deer in headlights, staring at him. He stares back.

"He, uh. Got a little distracted instead of going to bed."

"...Ok?"

Roxy nods, inching closer to the bed without breaking eye contact. "I was just gonna…" She tilts her head towards the bed. "You know?"

Michael hums. "Don't let me stop you. I'll see you down in Parts and Service, Roxanne."

Her shoulders lower slightly, and her tail starts wagging. As Michael walks into the elevator, he sees her pulling the covers over him as if he's valuable and fragile, tail going fast enough that it might knock something over.

So, Roxy likes tucking children into bed.

Chapter Text

Gregory blinks his heavy eyes open. The smell of lavender stays stubborn in his nose, even as he slowly turns his head to the clock.

11:48 P.M.

Gregory blinks, staring incomprehensibly. 

11:49 P.M.

Despite the blanket wrapped tightly around him, an unfamiliar feeling as he usually leaves to bed himself, Gregory still breathes easily, no restriction around his chest. He also isn't laying on his back, despite every piece of media ever showing the children tucked in on their back. He yawns.

11:50 P.M.

' That's pretty close to midnight… midnight… '

Gregory releases the tension in his neck, head softly landing on the pillow.

' Midnight… JESSICA .'

Gregory springs upward, attempting to launch himself off his bed and only managing to tangle his legs in the blanket, landing face first on the floor. Resisting the temptation to just lay there and become one with the floor, Gregory rolls into facing the ceiling and unwraps the blankets, legs flopping on the floor as gravity drags them downwards. 

Forcing himself upright, his hood flops over his face. The hood is extra long, covering his entire face and decorated to resemble a bear cub. Hence why he's so sure that Jessica custom ordered it. Still, it has a fabric that he can see through so it doesn't really bother him. 

Running towards the sign-in room, Gregory throws the door open, instantly ducking as keys are thrown at his head. However, due to his momentum, his duck turns into a slide as he falls onto his stomach. Jessica yelps as he slams into her feet, taking her to the ground with him.

Gregory erupts into laughter as he rolls to a stop, Jessica shaking her head to rid of her disorientation before joining in.

"What sort of greeting was that! Good midnight Jessica, have you ever considered tasting the floor?" She mocks him, pushing herself to her knees and making dopey expressions all while laughing. "Well no , Gregory! I hadn't before and now I can tell you with absolute certainty, the floor tastes a lot like pain!"

Gregory clutches his stomach, tears filling his eyes. "What even- what happened ? What sort of cartoon logic was that !?"

Jessica ignores him, sticking out her tongue. "Ah shit. Bit my tongue. Ouchie," though with her tongue not in her mouth it sounds more like "Aah ssit. Bit mai doung.  Oushee."

Gregory forces himself to his feet, wobbling slightly as he clutches his head. Rolling in a bunch of high speed circles is not that great for your brain as Gregory is finding out. "Is it bleeding?"

Jessica presses a hand to her cheek, tongue back inside her mouth. "Yeah… just a little." She waves a hand dismissively. 

Gregory frowns. "At least don't swallow the blood, that's super bad for you."

Jessica squints at him, before grabbing an empty cup left on the counter, removing the lid and straw, and drooling into it. Gregory squints back. "That's a lot of blood coming out for just a little bleed."

She flips him off.

The door behind Gregory opens.

Jessica drops her hand like it got burned, and Gregory scrambles to his feet.

Turning, his eyes meet a girl with blond hair and a night guard uniform, green eyes piercing through him. She sighs as she sees them, putting her keys away in a drawer and checking in. She slides out of a purple jacket and hooks the hood onto the desk handle her keys are in.

Officer Vanessa doesn't spare them another glance as she leaves to head further into the Pizzaplex. 

----------------------------

Gregory throws up Michael's door, already screaming. "MICHAEL!"

The aforementioned bear animatronic jumps, feet scraping loudly as he spins and nearly falls. "Gre- Gregory?"

Gregory steps on one of his feet, and he instinctively opens his stomach hatch for Gregory to climb inside. Pressing his hands against the lowered section, Gregory jumps and pushes himself up in the same motion, basically throwing himself haphazardly into the compartment. The endoskeleton digs into his back before he readjusts, wincing.

"Gregory, what-?"

"Vanessa is back!"

"O- okay?"

Gregory pouts, banging his fist against Michael's inside with a metal clank. "Okay?! Last time she was here she tried to get rid of me!"

Michael sighs. "Yes, Superstar, I am aware. However, management learned about her having the virus as well, remember? If she's back, then the scientists should have figured out she was probably going to be fine. Fazbear Entertainment may know how to deal with missing children, but they don't really like to. Or at least I didn't. "

With Michael's inability to regulate his volume as an animatronic, Gregory still heard the whispered part clearly. "You didn't? What, did you own a Pizzaplex?"

"Uh, well yes. The pizzeria underneath the Pizzaplex was actually mine."

"Oh?" Gregory tilts his head. "I didn't realize that you had a life before having enough spirit to go into Freddy." 

Michael moves oddly, head moving backwards separately from his body before it freezes. Gregory wonders about it before disregarding it. 

"Does that mean you knew about the bombs? Ooh, do you know why the place was so damaged? Or why it had furnaces in the floor of that maze area? Just seems like a strange and dangerous design choice to be honest."

"Uh, I. Well. Yes, Gregory, I know why those choices were made. I helped design the building after all. I was briefly told about the bombs, but did not get a chance to respond before they left me alone. It was a maze because the pizzeria was not made to be fun for kids, it was made to trap the animatronics. The animatronics were all po- uh, people, the only animatronics like that left in Utah."

"Like how you're people?"

"Yes, exactly Gregory. After all of them were collected, me and un-" Michael gags- "co-found-eer Henr- ry Emily, of Fr- Fr- Fredb- b- bear's Diner."

Gregory pats the inside of Michael's stomach as he simulates taking deep breaths, the metal expanding outwards before returning to its usual circumference. Based on the breeze ruffling his hair, it does move air around. After a few seconds, before Gregory's mind can start to wonder, Michael finishes.

"Me and my Uncle sat at our desks inside, and lit the building on fire."

Gregory freezes, mouth gaping open. Briefly ignoring that Michael's uncle is apparently the fucking co-founder , he stammers incredulously. "Wait you- while you were inside ?!"

Michael turns his head, his hatch opening slowly. Gregory climbs out, using the hatch opening to climb onto Michael's shoulders. His face looks more resigned and sad than anything else. Gregory can't help but compare it to night one. Michael was a bit different on that day, and blamed it on the malfunction when Gregory asked. That day one Freddy would make that expression every time he saw the ruined animatronics.

His ears slowly droop under Gregory's stare. Still, Gregory's voice wobbles.

"Michael… did you let yourself burn?"

Michael's voice is small, like for the first time ever he's managed to control the volume of his voice purely out of emotions. "I was already dead for years by that point, Gregory."

"Wha-... what do you mean…?"

Michael shrugs. "You can't control something else if you're alive. I was scooped, and woke up in my own corpse a month later. I was twenty-four. I'm still that same age I think, mentally. Then, after I would've turned sixty-one, we burned. I opened my eyes inside of Freddy. It's been about three years since then."

Gregory makes a choked, sobbing noise, and Michael turns his head. His metal snout presses lightly into Gregory's stomach.

"I had a British accent, y'know."

Gregory meets his glowing blue eyes, confused. 

"Yep, my parents were both British, I was actually born there while they visited my grandparents for a few months. Bad timing all around, my siblings didn't have as prominent of accents as I did."

"What-" Gregory's voice hitches- "What happened to it?"

"I think it's the bear. Our voices are kinda mixed, so he removed my accent. He can't even do a decent British impression-!"

At the word 'impression', Freddy's voice box lets out a slightly stereotypical sentence with a horrendous British accent. Gregory blinks at Michael's embarrassed and slightly pained expression before laughing, hiccuping and almost falling off of his shoulders. The voices being mixed must be why the prerecorded messages sound so off.

Michael smiles at him as he sits them both down on the couch.

----------------------------

Leaving Michael, who is apparently a ghost , which is not his fault because how was he supposed to know that 'spirit' meant 'ghost' when it usually meant 'excitement'? Gregory opens up the cameras on his watch, looking for the blonde that he had managed to forget about while talking to Michael. Unable to find her, just like that night, he walks through the doors into the maintenance tunnels. There's no cameras, so while he can't see her, she can't see him either. The stairs clang loudly underneath his feet, though not as loudly as they did under Michael's. 

He glances over the edge as he walks past for another circle, wishing he could just jump off without being injured. It would be so much faster. Still, he gets to the bottom and pushes open the doors.

Once they're open, he pauses and glances at the watch again. The time reads half past one, and there's someone crying in one of the maintenance tunnel's side rooms. The voice is feminine, and quiet, like she's muffling it with her hand instead of choking down the tears like Gregory would. 

Taking a deep breath, he starts moving forward, using the volume of the sobs to trial and error his way closer. Eventually, he comes to a party room. He glances about it in confusion, not knowing why a party room would be in an employees only area, before remembering that employees also have both kids and birthdays. On one of the tables sits a girl around Gregory's age. She's leaning so far into the table that Gregory almost didn't see her, she's nearly laying her upper torso down on it. 

She's not muffling her tears with her hand, as one is clutching a photo and the other is clenching her hair and digging into her scalp. Instead, it's being muffled into the table thanks to her position combined with her arms being straight out in front of her.

Gregory frowns softly, eyes darting across the room again. It's completely empty other than her. There's an hour's old carrot cake on the table, one slice being missing which was clearly cut out by a child. Said missing piece lays on a paper plate by the girl, only one bite taken and with dried teardrops having leaked into the thin paper. She has a plain white party hat sitting near her head, no elastic attached so it must've simply fallen off.

There's deflated balloons on the ground, streamers and confetti so old they've lost their shine or were clearly unraveled from a crumpled state. 

All in all, it looks pretty pathetic. A ruined party and a lone, crying kid is never a good sign. Especially when everyone but him was supposed to leave two hours ago.

Still, Gregory moves forward, grabbing another flimsy plate and plastic fork before grabbing himself a slice. In his own opinion, his slice is cut significantly better. He sits down across from her, the hand holding her photo nearly touching his plate, and eats.

She jerks at the sound of dried frosting crunching in his teeth, him having even opened his mouth while chewing to get her attention. Finally, she draws herself back into sitting, Roxy-themed makeup running down her face.

He keeps chewing as she stares. Then he swallows the, frankly dry and gross, slice and speaks up.

"Are you gonna finish your cake or just stare?"

She blinks slowly at him before her eyes slide down to her previously discarded plate. Given the cake was fully exposed to air, her slice is even drier than his half-exposed one. Still, her hand lethargically moves to grab her fork and eat. Her face softens at the taste, disregarding the dryness with a level of skill that Gregory is quickly gaining.

"My name's Gregory."

"...Cassie."

He nods, uncomfortably aware of dried crumbs itching his face as they stick to his cheeks.

They eat in silence once more, Cassie only speaking once she finishes her slice.

"...My dad was supposed to be here. His work friends were supposed to be here. He's a technician, so he doesn't work on the animatronics like the mechanics do. We scheduled this party a few months ago… but he…" she sniffles, letting the tears fall but quickly clearing her throat. "He got in a car accident while driving home. It killed him on impact. I…" 

Cassie blushes, eyes darting away in her embarrassment. "I might've ran away from the police office. I just… I had to get to the last party we planned together… It's just me now. Mama overdosed while I was little."

Her eyes droop, not out of sadness, but tiredness. Crying for an hour or two straight must take a lot out of someone. She whispers under her breath, " It's just me now… "

The tears still rolling down her blotchy face speed up, and she manages to yawn before it's interrupted by a gag. Seems cake and strong emotions aren't the best combination. Still, Gregory scans the party decorations again. Spotting some red plastic cups and a gallon of warm apple juice, he carefully pours two out for them. 

Calling her name to get her attention, Gregory slides one cup over, apple juice sloshing near the edges as it catches and releases on imperfections in the old wood.

Cassie just stares at it again, her tired and worn out mind not understanding what he wants.

Gregory takes a loud sip from his own cup, purposely looking away. From the corner of his eye, he sees her picking up the cup and taking slow mouthfuls. Something in his stomach, which he hadn't even consciously noticed, relaxes at the sight. Still, if he learned anything from his time on the streets then he knows you can't shock your system by introducing too much of something too fast.

One of his memories from earlier that day stands out to him, and he places his cup down before standing. He rounds the table and extends his hand to Cassie. 

"C'mon, the staff bots will only clean everything up once the last kid leaves.

She blinks into his eyes, gaze then dropping to his extended hand. Seemingly on autopilot, she grabs it. Aware of the way she's swaying in place, he wraps his other arm around her waist. Her legs still shudder under her own weight as she's pulled to her feet.

They must be sore from all of the running she did. The police station isn't exactly close.

Pulling most of her weight onto himself, he walks them silently into Parts and Service. He tenses once they reach the Endo Hallways, but none of them so much as wiggle, and he eventually relaxes. Reaching the protective cylinder, he walks into Roxy's elevator. Cassie puts all of her weight on him as they stand, waiting. He struggles slightly, but he's always been a strong kid, even while malnourished on the streets.

It opens and they step forward, instantly being surrounded by the smell of lavender. It's not overwhelmingly potent, just present. It has the biggest effect on Cassie, as her stumbling feet still and he's forced to drag her onto the bed. Gregory feels unaffected, having woken up only a couple of hours ago.

As Cassie is lying on the bed, covers thrown recklessly off to the side, Roxy opens the door, clearly wondering about the noise. She freezes once she sees him trying to force Cassie into a comfortable position. He only glances at her before turning back, getting wacked in the face by a wayward hand for his troubles.

He's nearly growling at her unconscious body before Roxy pushes him back. She easily reorganizes Cassie's limbs into that same loose fetal position that he himself had woken up in before tucking the blankets around her. Then she tilts Cassie's head up and pulls slightly damp wipes out of one of her arm compartments. Must be makeup wipes with the ease they remove the extra colors on her face. Putting the wipes on one of the shelves, Roxy pulls her hair out of the hairdo carefully, trying not to tear out a single curly fiber.

Finally, they both step back. Roxy leads him out of the room, tail calmly swishing behind them. The door closes before she speaks, voice down.

"Is she okay?"

Gregory takes a deep breath. He was able to push down his own sympathy sadness when he had a goal in mind, a potential solution to the problem, but it's a lot harder without one.

"Can you look in the employee database for someone with a daughter named Cassie? Dead wife too, if that's included."

Roxy hums, her eyes closing as she searches. Suddenly she tenses and turns right back to the door. Gregory nearly deflates with how he curls into himself, tears stinging his own eyes before he rubs them away aggressively. 

Gregory recovers right before Roxy turns back around, putting her hands on his shoulders again. "You go back to whatever you were doing before, I'll take care of Cassie. Maybe tell Freddy about her."

He nods, remembering a lot of things he forgot to tell Michael. Which makes him think of the conversation he did have with Michael. He falters, lips thinning as he stares at the ground. Roxy tilts her head at him, concerned.

"Roxy… you're a person, right? Gosh, I'm not sure how to ask this without setting off the missing peoples prerecorded message. Like… you weren't always an animatronic."

Her tail slows to a stop, mimicked breathing picking up ever so slightly. 

She nods.

Gregory has never felt this emotionally exhausted and he has been hunted down by a brainwashed furry before. He yawns as he heads back to his room through Parts and Service.

----------------------------

Gregory wakes up to his wrist buzzing away. His blurry eyes refuse to focus at first, but he blinks rapidly until they do. 

Bruh y am i gettin messaged saying fazbears has 2 kids noe

What did u do

He stares at the top two texts until they form into actual sentences in his brain, clutches his blanket, rolls over, and goes back to sleep.

Chapter Text

Waking up for the second time, Gregory yawns loudly, face scrunching into a grimace as he tastes a combination of carrot cake, apple juice, and morning breath. He almost wants to keep turning over until it goes away, but there's a bathroom in Parts and Service. Or, a room that got turned into a bathroom which all of the mechanics appreciated. 

Walking back towards the elevators, he ignores Patrice talking about her multiple girlfriends, or "fiances" if you listen to resident surfer dude Byte, and instead runs over everything that happened before he gave up on the day. Tripping Jessica, Vanessa appearing, finding out possession means death, finding out his dad died twice over somehow, Cassie also appearing, confirming Roxy is possessed, crying a little… all within about two hours. Damn, no wonder he gave up and went straight back to bed. Maybe the lavender had also helped.

He hesitates before stepping into Roxy's elevator. Chica is fixed by now, and Monty hasn't destroyed his room again since it was a virus thing, so her room is the only one he can think of. It empties for breakfast anyway, since it's about when the Pizzaplex opens. He was already rested after all, so four hours was more than he expected to get really. Maybe he just took some two hour naps with a Daryll in the middle though.

Thinking of Daryll, Gregory opens the watch for the rest of the messages.

Bruh y am i gettin messaged saying fazbears has 2 kids noe

What did u do

Shes the kid of an employee appearntly

Oh a dead enployee

Oh no

Im starting to feel lik thisis both less an more ur fault

U were involved.

I can smell it.

Please dont fire me for my accusasions

Accusations 

Gregory laughs under his breath, the elevator opening in front of him. To his faint surprise, Cassie is still sleeping. In her sleep, she's turned into a starfish, flailing her limbs about. Half of the blanket is on the floor, the other half wrapped around her legs. Gregory can't imagine how, as he's always been a sound sleeper.

Pressing his ears to the door, the sound of giggling children reaches his ears. Clearly it's not an option yet. He turns back to Cassie. The makeup wipes have been thrown out, and her hair lovingly tucked away so the curls wouldn't be damaged in her sleep.

Her eyes still look puffy.

Gregory sighs, moving towards her bed like he knew he would the second he walked in. He pulls himself onto the bed, sitting in the space around her hips and bracketed by her arm and leg. The bed dips under his height, and she shifts again. With her face pressed into his side and her arms wrapped firmly around his waist, he realizes that he is now stuck for however long it takes for her to move.

He sighs, resigned. Some of the stray cats really liked him, so it's not an unusual situation. It's just not one he gets into with someone he met four hours ago very often. The lavender swirls through the air, and he scowls when he realizes how sleepy it's making him feel. Lavender isn't supposed to do that, right? Flowers shouldn't have that kind of power, let alone soap that mimics the flowers smell.

'Maybe they put drugs in the carpet. Or whatever that candy is… '

Gregory blinks.

' Isn't that sleepy-time candy supposed to make your breath smell like lavender ?'

He groans, quietly so as to not wake his new… What, roommate? Cousin? Michael is definitely his dad, and Roxy has been sorta aunt-like… 

He nods to himself before yawning. Cousins it is.

Finally accepting that he's going to be passing out again and there's nothing he can do about it, he moves Cassie's arms so one isn't behind him and lays down. She responds to him by throwing a leg over his and throwing one of her arms back over his stomach, head burying into his hair.

Even the alley cats never got him so thoroughly stuck.

As his eyes close, he makes a note to tell Roxy to stop candy-drugging the carpet, intentionally or not.

---------------------------- 

Being woken up by a sharp yelp and being pushed out of a bed is just not a fun way to wake up, especially not when he's only been asleep for half an hour according to the clock.

"Wha- hah-? Why were you-" Cassie starts sputtering, making hand movements between him and the bed. "You- here!"

Gregory frowns. "Well, I was trying to check in on you since you passed out on my shoulder, and then you practically manhandled me into cuddling."

Her mouth closes, hands freezing in place. Then she deflates, embarrassed. "Ahh… I've been told I'm a clingy sleeper. Sorry."

Gregory rolls his eyes. "It's really not a big deal." He stands, listening to the door again. "Quiet. Perfect. C'mon, let's escape."

She stands, coming closer upon seeing his extended hand just like last night. She grabs it again, seemingly not thinking about it. "Escape?"

"Well yeah, unless you wanna be stuck in this room and Parts and Service until midnight. We gotta go before the guests come back."

Despite her confusion, she follows him out. She instantly stops again, gasping. "We're in Roxy's room?"

"Yep, her backroom, which is connected to her greenroom. The back used to be storage, but she turned it into a kids bedroom just in case."

"Just in case…?"

"Just in case they found another kid like me, I guess. And would you look at that, she actually did." Gregory shrugs. It makes sense that the two possessed animatronics would be the ones willing to adopt children. The chicken and gater would only ever do what their programming dictates.

' Oh wait fuck, Cassie doesn't know about the ghosts and murder and bad shit that happened .'

Gregory sighs, resolving to catch his new cousin up to speed later. Maybe get Michael or Roxy to help. Squeezing her hand as a warning, Gregory starts walking towards the door again. Cassie squeezes back and follows.

Thanking that he offered her the hand without his watch, despite the hand with the watch being his dominant left hand, he boops the screen with his nose to turn it on and flick through cameras. It's not as efficient as he thought it would be, his face constantly missing the right button on the small screen. Still, he manages to find the two. They're actually together, Roxy clearly laughing as she drags a very confused Michael behind her. The kids in the atrium are clearly delighted about having two animatronics joining them, instead of just Roxy like usual. It being the main bear- or character?- the main guy himself only makes them more excited. Michael is clearly awkward and flustered, even through the low quality cameras, but he seems to be a natural with handling kids around massive animatronics. 

Gregory huffs an amused breath, feet taking him closer to the animatronic duo. Cassie tightens her hold on his hand, moving closer to almost press herself flush with him. With the kids bumping them on all sides, he can understand her reasoning. 

Entering the atrium, Cassie grabs his hand with her other hand as well. It's even louder than he expected, more crowded than he remembers from the other day. He borderline growls at an older boy who tramples on his foot, teeth bared and staring back at him through his hair. Cassie stares at him before joining in, glaring at the boy. The older boy scoffs before running towards Monty Golf, and Gregory huffs, rolling his eyes. 

"I almost wish he didn't run, I would've bitten him."

Cassie gapes at him before giggling. "You're… pretty weird Gregory."

He shrugs. "Comes with the territory."

Speeding through the crowd, Cassie gets an elbow to the stomach which interrupts her attempts to make him explain.

Finally, he spots Michael and Roxy. He slots the both of them into their circles effortlessly, sticking closer to Michael while letting Cassie hang around Roxy. Somehow, despite the children running around them, their hands remain intertwined.

---------------------------- 

Sitting in the lost and found as the last of the stragglers leave the pizzaplex, Cassie hums as she runs her fingers over some of the lost sweaters. Finding a Roxy-themed sweater in her size, she slips it on over her head and the white collared shirt underneath. Gregory lets the oversized hood fall over his face, bear cub decal covering his face. He wrinkles his nose at the smell. He'll need to wash it soon, he doesn't need CPS being called just because he's kinda stinky up close. Holding her hands close to her chest, Cassie rubs her hands up and down the texture of the cloth as she returns to his side.

The silence hangs heavy over the two kids, getting tenser the longer no one speaks. Finally Cassie sighs.

"You've been wanting to tell me something all day."

Gregory bites at his cheek, double checking their empty surroundings, before slumping against the wall. "This place has a massive history that you don't know about."

Cassie frowns, pouting. "If you're talking about the rumours, I'm not stupid."

Gregory scowls slightly. "I'm not talking about the missing kids. Or well… I sort of am, but it's more complicated than that!" He rolls his eyes, "I don't know too much about the history here, you should really ask Roxy or Michael."

"Michael? Is that an employee?"

"Uh. Sorta? It has to do with the history stuff… Just go to Freddy."

Cassie groans, falling against him dramatically. "You can't build up all this secrecy and then not deliver! That's just mean."

Gregory crosses his arms, Cassie shifting slightly to lean more against his side than his shoulder, "I don't owe you answers because I made you aware of them, that's not fair! Especially since I also don't have all of the answers, I'm just trying to tell you to get someone who actually knows what they're talking about."

She groans again, louder, and slumps more of her weight against him. "But I wanna know now…" Her voice starts shaking. "If I'm going to be… living here now… I deserve to know."

He slumps against her as well, matching her weight with his own so she doesn't topple him over. "And you will , I promise. No secrets, as long as I have permission to tell."

She squints at him. "Why not just no secrets?"

He shrugs, her new sweater wrinkling with the movement. "Sometimes it's not your secret to tell." He bites at his lip. "I guess I could… try and give you a summary?"

Cassie brightens, latching onto his arm and forcefully uncrossing his arms. He grumbles as she speaks over his complaints. "Yes! Gregory I am so ready. Tell me everything you know."

The aforementioned huffs at being ignored. "Well, long long long story short, there was a child murderer who had three kids and started the company. He used the company to kill children, including his own, in order to try and make himself immortal apparently. I guess it worked cuz I kicked his old ass before I got adopted." He shrugs.

Cassie sputters. "Wha- what do you mean immortality!?"

"I mean. I wouldn't call getting your ghost stuck in an animatronic immortality, but…" Gregory shrugs again. "He was stuck in a body again."

He laughs. "Not anymore though."

Cassie blinks at him, wordlessly opening and closing her mouth as she thinks.

"Are- are you telling me that ghosts are real?"

"Oh they're so real. Michael is a ghost. He's also my dad but I've never said that to his face. Tell him and I'll throw you down the trash compactor."

Cassie expertly sidesteps the threat, ignoring it like it had never even passed his lips. Her lips pinch in the corners. "There's… a lot of death here. Freddy is possessed by this Michael guy, right? And… is Roxy…"

Gregory nods. "Yeah. And the murderer's kids also died. All three, Michael, Elizabeth…? What?"

Cassie squints at him strangely. "Michael?" 

Gregory hums in an affirming tone. 

"Like… the guy who's possessing Freddy?"

They blink at each other.

"That would be one crazy coincidence…"

Gregory frowns. "Looking back… the rabbit murderer's attack on Michael seemed pretty personal…"

Cassie curls into him more. "I'm not sure I like all of this talk about death."

"Well, I told you to wait for the adults."

Cassie scowls at him before burrowing impossibly deeper into him. His arm, now freed from her grasp, wraps around her in comfort. She's been brave all day with something to distract her, but all the death talk is clearly bringing her brain right back.

He takes a deep breath, and Vanessa walks in.

Cassie tenses under his arm, face falling limp in a fake sleep. Gregory looks up to meet her eyes, finally getting his first good look at her. Her roots seem to be growing out brown, and the bags under her eyes are so dark and purple that they could be bruises. Her hair is messy, visibly unbrushed, and her nails are bitten down and uneven. She looks like she's been living in a panic attack, which might not be too far off from the truth. Her dull eyes latch onto the duo and she frowns.

"Is this where you two have decided to hide out? I guess it makes sense, you certainly have been lost."

"Yeah, well." Gregory shrugs, head tilting off to the side. "Sometimes you have to get lost if the choice is between that and getting murdered. Besides, I figured out the layout pretty fast."

Vanessa sighs. "You say that like you weren't using the map on your dinky little watch."

"You are severely overestimating those maps."

Her head snaps towards him, scowl deepening the lines of her face. "Maybe you should stop overestimating my patience, Gregory. I came in early to try and avoid you, not get stuck in a conversation." She turns away, hair audibly scratching as the up-do smacks her in the face. Gregory sticks his tongue out at her back.

She vanishes behind a corner, and Cassie lifts her face from his side. She's shaking. Gregory tilts his head at her. "Cassie?"

Cassie jumps, meeting his fabric-covered eyes with her own tear-filled one's. She doesn’t speak.

"...Cassie?"

"Do you think… Do you think we can go to the parking lot?"

Gregory blinks. "Uh, yeah? I have a key card, I can go in and out as I want. You'll probably get one too. It's basically midnight though, and Jessica is probably expecting to be introduced to you."

Cassie nods, a determined glint in her eyes. "I can wait, let's go meet her."

She drags Gregory to his feet, pushing his hood off his face to reveal his messy hood hair and confused eyes, before tugging him out of the room. Once out, Gregory takes the lead and walks them to the same room he usually meets Jessica. Their footsteps echo through the lobby, size dwarfing them in comparison.

Gregory turns his head towards her as he pushes open the door. "Usually I try to make her laugh when she enters, you wanna join in?"

Cassie smiles slightly, eyes crinkling even as her previous mood hangs heavy on her hesitant smile. Gregory resists the urge to frown at the sight, turning away from her to walk inside. Once in the room, he quickly shoves her under the same desk he had hidden under only two days earlier. Looking around for a different hiding spot, his eyes catch on the table, and the vent near it. Every vent in the plex is made to be traversed by the Mini Music Men, meaning that every vent is usually populated by at least one. As far as Gregory knows, they recycle the scraps from repairing the animatronics to more Mini Music Men, meaning there is an entirely new and multicolored hoard roaming freely. He smirks before standing on the table, whistling into the vent and reaching up like a baby asking for uppies. Within seconds, three Monty-themed Music Men peer over the edge, followed by a Roxanne and Chica mix. Ironically, the Monty themed one's are the first to rip the vent off its screws, while the mixture attempts to reach him. The new Mini Men don’t have any cymbals, and the four quickly work together to haul him into the vent.

He giggles at Cassie’s sputtering from the floor. The screws dig into his knees, having been installed on the inside since repairs were left up to the robots, and he quickly collects them and bundles them together off to the side. They then noiselessly replace the vent cover, leaving it unscrewed as they all peer down together.

Jessica throws the door open with her usual reckless abandon, tossing her keys onto the table where they fall off like they do every day. "Are there any gremlins in here or will I need to go full scavenger hunt? Helloooo!?" She calls into the room, voice reverberating oddly from behind him, further into the vent. He shoves a hand over his mouth but Cassie doesn't quite muffle all of her laughter, causing a grin to bloom across Jessica's face. 

"I hear youuu…" She slowly stalks further into the room, hands settled on the crook of her back. She passes in front of Cassie's spot once, twice, before ripping the chair out of the way and scooping Cassie into the air. She laughs triumphantly as Cassie squeaks. "Yes! One down. You hear that Geggy ? I FOUND YOUR FRIEND!"   

Gregory shoves his other hand over his mouth, waiting and watching, even as snickers escape but are covered by Cassie squealing in laughter. Finally, Jessica wanders to the perfect spot, right next to the table and near the vent. Gregory slams his hands down on either side of him, kicks the vent cover away, and throws himself down onto the table. Jessica jumps, feet unstable on the ground as Gregory leaps at her.

Jessica groans as both children land safely on top of her, moving one arm off of Cassie in order to rub the back of her own skull. Cassie pushes herself off of her to softly place her hand over Jessica's. Gregory rolls off of her, jabbing her in the side with an elbow, and fetching her keys from the floor nearby. Jessica hisses out a curse as the hand previously wrapped around Gregory presses to her newly injured side.

"They warned me about the robots… got sooo many robot disclaimers… my relatives were all scared about the robots… no one warned me about the children of chaos." She smiles at Cassie. "At least you're nice."

Cassie smiles back. Gregory rolls his eyes.

"Excuse you, I am a fucking delight."

Jessica scoffs playfully before wincing. "Aah, yeah that'll be smarting for a few days…"

Gregory ignores her, rolling the keys around his hands. "Y'know I was going to tell you something, but since you're being rude, I'm not telling."

Cassie blinks at the two of them, eyes bouncing back and forth between them as Jessica speaks up again, crossing her arms. "Considering the last few things you've told me, I feel like knowing is in my best interest."

The boy glances up at her, tilting his head. "What do you mean?"

"The last two times we talked you told me about animatronic spirits and ex-crazy ex-infected dyed blonde co-workers."

Cassie's lips thin as she presses them together. "Based on what I've seen, we might need a raincheck on that ex-crazy status."

Gregorys eyes dart off to the side as he shifts in place, Jessica turning to stare at Cassie. "Wait, what?"

Cassie quickly backtracks. "Well, obviously I'm not a great person to ask since I didn't know her before this weird infection thing you mentioned, but something just seems off. She seems so frazzled and stressed out. She also sounded ready to fight Gregory, despite being the adult in the room."

"At least she didn't have the same tone she used when the plex opened during the accident." Gregory shudders. "It was weirdly flirty. Gross."

Both Jessica and Cassie eye Gregory with differing amounts of concern and confusion. The boy catches the glances in the following silence and glares at them.

"What?"

"I'm not sure how comfortable I am with her working here considering what you just said, but since she was possessed by the Afton Virus, I'll ignore it."

Gregory blinks at her, uncomprehending. "You weren't there though?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Gregory shakes his head, waving his arms around. "Y'know what? It doesn't matter. Me and Cassie are going to the parking lot, we'll be back in like… I dunno. Ten to thirty minutes. Maybe longer if something happens."

Cassie scrambles off of Jessica, standing while the adult pushes herself onto her forearms. "Yes! We won't be very long." She speedwalks to Gregory, dragging him through the door Jessica had entered from. Gregory shouts in surprise, waving to Jessica as he's dragged to the door.

---------------------------- 

"So… what are we out here for? It's pretty empty, since there's only two cars in the whole parking lot."

One of the vehicles is familiar, being Jessica’s dubiously street-legal monster that could likely survive a nuclear war and following apocalypse, but the other is just a dark red mini van with a dent on the front. In the light of the building, the red car has clearly visible sparkles along the paint. Cassie reaches out and brushes her hand along the edge of the dent, expression sour. She pulls away and rubs her fingers together, paint dusting off her fingertips and onto the pavement. The edges of her lips fall with the flakes.

Gregory shivers, the movement intruding more than he felt he already was. The wind buffets his legs, throwing his hood against his shoulder. Cassie's hair weaves around her shoulders, catching on her clothes and becoming a tangled mess. 

"...Cassie? "

She doesn't respond.

Gregory frowns, brows drawing in. He takes another step forward.

Cassie's shoulders are shaking.

Oh. Right.

Gregory brings himself closer, pressing himself against her limp arm in an attempt at comfort. Her right arm remains raised, the paint glimmering on her fingertips. Fat tears drip down her face, pooling on her chin and dropping soundlessly to the concrete. If it weren't for the wind slicing through the air, he might've heard it earlier. Her shoulders shake, small sobs escaping her mouth. After a few seconds, she leans her weight into him, still staring at her hand.

"Cassie?"

She swallows thickly.

"I'm… never going to see him again."

Gregorys fingers flick and twine nervously. He doesn't know how to respond to that, he's been an orphan for longer than he had parents.

"No, you won't." 

The wind whistles around them, buffeting against their small forms. Cassie shudders and finally turns away from the car, burrowing herself into the familiar and comforting boy behind her. The paint rubs off on his sleeve, leaving her fingers clean.

"I could ignore it while we were playing but…" She cuts herself off, head drooping where it pressed on him. "I'm really tired…"

Briefly Gregory thinks about his sleep schedule. He worked hard on mapping that out with Michael, but in less than half a week it got completely destroyed. Glancing at Cassie, he can't really bring himself to care all that much. Besides, Michael had mentioned something about kids being great with sleep schedule changes while adults suffer, so it's probably good. 

"Ok, we can sleep. But not in your room, I only just told Roxy about the magical knock-out carpet."

She snorts, coughing with a stuffy nose. She pulls away from his jacket, leaving wet spots behind. Grabbing his hand, Cassie starts shuffling towards the door. "It just smells like lavender. It's not Roxy's fault that you're so tired all the time"

Gregory hums, doubting. "I had just woken up when I went to visit you and fell right back asleep."

"A little sleepy guy, that's what you are."

He rolls his eyes while pushing open the door. He turns around to re-lock it, leading Cassie to his room by the hand.

Chapter Text

Cassie groans at his watch a few seconds after Gregory wakes up, slapping at his wrist sleepily. He moves his arm closer to dismiss the buzzing message congratulating him on sleeping again, but Cassie grabs it instead. She squints at the screen, blinking her dry eyes rapidly, before making mumbling sleepy noises that were probably supposed to be words. Then she lifts her own wrist and reveals a Roxy-themed one that she definitely did not have two days ago. It doesn't congratulate her, only displaying the time and how long she was asleep. She grumbles incomprehensibly at the watches, dismissing Gregory's message after a few seconds of slapping it. He blinks at her as she falls back into oblivion.

Not a morning person then.

Gregory escapes from the bed, leaving Cassie to be a cuddly blanket hog as she bunches it together and wraps around it. Picking up his jacket from the floor, knowing it's dried by now and no longer going to be clinging to his skin and shirt, he shoves it back over his head. The time is early, but late enough that they can't join Roxy and her entourage for breakfast since they've already finished eating. He pouts slightly. Despite, or maybe because of, it being a new experience, he's been enjoying the breakfasts.

Still, He ventures down the elevator. Only two of the mechanics are present, the three volunteers having school. Byte, upon seeing his bedhead and half awake eyes, laughs at him.

"Geeze kid, aren't children supposed to be trying to stay up all night? You look about ready to hibernate like the bear cub you are." His hand ruffles through Gregory's hair, earning a swipe. "And coming at me with the claws too huh? You keep actin' like that and you'll infect the new kid with animal traits. You sure we can handle both a bear and a wolf cub?"

Jordan looks up from the bass they were examining, meeting Bytes eyes with a deadpan stare. "I'll care when I'm caffeinated."

He snorts. "You've been spoiled by that Harold kid. Just sign the adoption papers already dude. Mini-Jordan has clearly already adopted you as a parent."

Jordan rolls their eyes, turning back to the bass. It has deep scratch marks down it, and has clearly been broken in half before. "I'm not getting into that conversation with you again."

Byte shakes his head, shaggy hair falling into his eyes which sparkle with amusement. "If you say so, but denial ain't just a river."

Jordan glares at him, raising the bass threateningly. Byte raises his hands in surrender, joking smirk pulling at his pierced lips. Gregory rolls his eyes, refusing to throw in his own two cents on an argument he hears at least twice a week. Jordan sighs as he lowers it. "Kid's got a perfectly good set of parents already."

" Foster parents."

"You need to do paperwork and prove yourself to an agent or whatever to be eligible for adoption."

"So you've been researching it then?"

" Byte ."

The aforementioned laughs, cackles really. Jordan lets out a long suffering sigh, hands clasping around their forehead and temples as they rest their elbows on the work table. After a few seconds of rubbing, they slam their hand around a nearby cup and knock it back, downing the coffee like a shot. When finished they rub the coffee off of their upper lip, which is so potent that even that thin it's still pure black. It joins the stains permanently covering their hands, which Gregory always assumed was motor oil and is now second guessing. He smiles at the familiar banter, starting to slide away.

"If you don't want to be called a parent then don't act so parental! Easy fix."

" Get back to work ."

----------------------------

Walking around without Cassie as a shadow is almost strange, even if she's only been there for two days. Gregory keeps almost turning around to make a comment to her, only to remember that his hand isn't being held for a reason. Still, Gregory wins another game of Fazer Blast, this time with other kids to trip him up. Because he hadn't won the game properly, they had taken away his golden Blaster. Taking it back with a smirk, as they had tucked it into a hidden area for him, his victorious cackles are cut off by braining himself on part of the wall. He lets out a hiss of pain as he curls inwards, pressing his arms into the point of impact. His skull twinges and his eyes tear up, making him scowl. Turning to glare at whatever he hit his head on, - it didn't even hurt that bad why are his eyes watering- he finds a bent and unscrewed vent cover. He blinks at it, pain forgotten. Pushing it open, he finds a vent the same large size as all of the others. Looking around, he deems it safe to crawl inside.

There's more spider webs inside than there have been in the other vents since that first night, with the excess Mini Men cleaning up everywhere. Crouching through the vent, he follows it up and out. 

Gregory gapes as he's released near the vaulted ceiling, feet moving automatically as his eyes roam. One hand trails along the railing, pulling back when he reaches a door and grabbing for it. It opens under his hand and he grumbles as he wipes the dust off. Looking inside, he locks on the graffitied VANNY on the wall. Forcing his throat to swallow, He closes the door behind him. Walking to the other door, he finds it locked. The couch isn't dusty, a could of dirt sitting on the ground around it. However, there are very suspicious stains across it that send shivers down his spine.

His throat is dry and he should not be here.

He steps closer into the center of the room. Spinning in a slow circle, Gregory tears his eyes away from the far wall and notices an arcade machine. Despite lacking any signs of wear or use, and being covered in dust, it's tucked away lovingly. Like a gift, even if the gift isn't for him. Confusion blooms under his fear, and he latches onto it like he did with determination so many times before. His brows furrow as he walks closer, steps becoming steadier as he forms a goal in his mind. 

Brushing the side of the machine, he coughs and sputters under an onslaught of dust. Peeking watery eyes at the uncovered title, his confusion only grows. While he was certainly planning on finding the third princess quest game, he wasn't expecting it to be hidden in a furry's lair. He peeks around, unimpressed by the underwhelming room. Maybe her bachelor pad was a better description, or a college student's first apartment.

Still, he found the game he was planning on playing, and even if Vanessa is still Vanny, she only works the nightshift. That means that Vanny is either dead in her subconscious or sleeping wherever she lives. Gregory reaches up and activates the game.

----------------------------

Greogry's heart pounds in his chest as he walks out of the winners door. The game after his own is still going, or maybe that game finished and it's a new one. Maybe he was in there for hours or days. The solid thumps press in on his ears as he smiles and waves at people waiting for their turn to play. He blinks and his leg is jerking in a frantic staccato as he stands with his back pressed against the wall of the elevator, humming along to the music that he hears in his sleep. He has a goal, go talk to Michael. Him and Michael haven't been hanging out as much since he found out his dad is actually some dead guy, since Vanessa came back, since he found a new cousin crying under the building. 

Trying to act natural is like trying to pull out a loose tooth with his fingers, it just doesn't work all that well. His ankle aches from the frantic bouncing, his knee not far behind and could this stupid fucking elevator move FASTER-

He refrains from throwing himself out of the opening door, but only barely.

The sound of his lungs contracting and expanding, his blood pumping, his legs moving, all of it drowns out the sounds of the children around him. 

Vanny wasn't gone before.

Vanny wasn't gone before and Vannessa was here.

Vannessa is Vanny and Vannessa was here.

Vanny was here.

The place Gregory had been staying, the Plex, his home, had been holding Vanny again. It's like forcing a child to see an abuser. Or well… it is forcing a child to see an abuser since he's a child and she tried to kill him. He forgets that sometimes.

Looking over the atrium, he's hit again by just how many people are there. There's less during lunch, people leaving for food elsewhere before driving home for the afternoon, people stepping out for fresh air, employees taking a midday break near the entrance to watch for the afternoon rush. He can see the ground, could probably run through without hitting anyone if he dodges well enough. Michael is near the stage, sitting on the ground behind the separation. Roxy is running around him, loudly complaining about her raceway still being under construction. Gregory frowns. Shouldn't that be fixed by now? Fazbear doesn't like leaving things broken for even a few minutes.

Moving down to the bottom floor, dodging people as he goes, he tries to bring his brain into some form of order. With Roxy and Michael behind the separation, he can't get to them. No one is allowed behind the barriers as a precaution, both to keep people out of Parts and Service and in case one of the band members falls off the stage. 

He remains unnoticed as he climbs onto a ring of photo booths, watching his family from a higher vantage point. Cassie is there, standing as close as she can to Roxy without getting pushed past the barriers. Pipsqueak isn't, which is slightly shocking but the tickets to get inside aren't exactly free. Or maybe it's her moms day off.

A loud whirring nosing from the stage catches not only his attention, but everyone's very quickly. Some people go on with their days, but stop as the intercom clicks on. The lift on the stage rises to reveal two adults wearing masks, their stances awkward like there was supposed to be a third. The mechanics step off the lift and stage with confused expressions, Byte grabbing Jordan by the back of the upper arm. Gregory squints at the masked duo, climbing off of the photo booths and moving to join Cassie. Multiple kids groan and whine at him as he pushes past them, but he doesn't apologize. Jordan and Byte slide next to Cassie at the same time he does, staying on the other side of the partition. He wraps his hand around hers from behind her arm, twining their hands together thoroughly. She quickly leans into him, pulling his hand up to her chest and she grips it with both hands.

"Hello everyone! We have decided to pull a little event today. Yes, usually events are scheduled and advertised, but we thought it would be more fun if it was a surprise."

Gregory grimaces, cupping his free hand over his ear, pressing the other side of his head against Cassie. Jordan reaches over the girl in order to rest their hand on his head. The voice continues booming throughout the atrium, but with the people whispering around him helping cover the muffled noise, Gregory can hardly make it out. This combined with the way he's actively trying to tune it out means he doesn't catch a word. His heartbeat catches his attention instead, rising in tandem with the ringing in his ears. His eyes catch on the masks again. The mask has clasps that wrap around the side above their ears, connected to two separate pieces of fabric that stretch over their hair. With the person in the back looking over the balconies, he can see that the long pieces hang near their necks, adjustable.

The person in front, still holding their microphone, pushes their mask up enough to expose a wide grin. The fuzz on the mask puffs around his fingers. Like an animal .

Michael and Roxy both take steps forward clearly on edge. The masked grin falls into something considerably more sinister. The long straps sway as they back closer to their friend.

Like a bunny .

Roxy nearly snarls and takes one more step.

Gregory gasps.

The entire building shakes, newly cracked walls around the raceway seep smoke and fire. Byte wraps himself around the three of them, dragging Jordan to their knees. Gregory flinches at the sudden onslaught of noise, people screaming, falling, being trampled over in the rush, children being abandoned in the panic. The building grumbles and groans under the stress and stressed. People crowd into the elevators, only barely listening as some desperately try to adhere to the weight limit to avoid breaking their only escape. Voices shout, only a small amount being something helpful, and an even smaller amount being decipherable through the sirens of voices swinging through the air. Byte clings to them tighter, tanned arms shaking as he stares at the rising flames and cracking walls, still shuddering and shaking with a vengeance. 

Byte whispers something, but with them being on opposite sides, Gregory can't hear him. Jordan escapes his grasp and tugs on Gregorys arm, trying to drag him back while Byte focuses on Cassie. His heartbeat pounds in his brain, pressing in on his head and oozing out of his ears as his body runs cold despite the heat in the air. 

Michael is kneeling on the shuddering ground, both hands grasping the floor as he tries to steady himself. Roxy has her legs held far apart, tail helping her balance even as it swishes behind her angrily. She growls as she takes a hesitant step, claws held out beside her as both a threat and for balance. The leader laughs as flames lick around them and their companion. Flames… coming from the raceway. Cracks in the walls that originated from the raceway.

Gregory digs his feet into the ground, staring at Roxy's attraction. Fingers slip on his arm before grabbing him again.

Some of the explosives didn't go off, sitting as duds along the edges…

The bombs from when they buried Michael's pizza place…

He swallows, throat dry and tacky. One hand comes up to grab the hand on him - Jordan it's Jordan's hand - and he can't help but notice that his watch is buzzing. 

He wonders what Darryl is doing.

The building gives one last violent boom before the walls collapse around the stage, crushing both of the perpetrators as well as the animatronics.

Chapter Text

Michael opens his eyes to red. Everything, the grass cushioning his head, the trees, his hands… his… human hands? 

Michael snaps into a sitting position, holding his hands out in front of him. Beneath the red tint now slowly fading from his vision, the hands are clearly tanned, covered in freckles and small scares. His knees and legs tell much the same story. Michael slowly lifts a hand to his head, fingers threading through his curly hair before they reach fabric.

Pulling it down, Michael stares into the mask. A bright red Foxy mask, leaking some red vapor.

Michael's in his teenage body again.

Before he can start hyperventilating, either out of panic or excitement he can't tell, a loud groan comes from his left. Turning, he sees a purple rabbit mask emerging from the same foggy grass. His heart stops. Without his permission, his mouth moves, calling out a name.

The mask wearer flinches, meeting his eyes before darting down to look over themself.

"Don't… call me that. I don't- i just. I'm not him anymore." A self-deprecating laugh comes out of their throat. "Or a him at all really. Of course death brings me back to the body I left behind before I even died."

Michael winces, eyes darting down to the body he's in and putting the mask back on. "Yeah… it had to put me back to one of the times I hated myself the most. Whatever. Name? Pronouns? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable bro- or uh. Uh. Friend."

The other smiles. "She/her. You can call me Ramona."

Michael nods, before standing. "I'm still Michael, in case you forgot or something." He brushes the red grass off of his old shorts. Fog swirls around his hands.

Ramona laughs. "Michael. I would have to get amnesia to forget your name." She falters. "I- uhm. I'm sorry. The way I acted after the bite… it wasn't fair. I shouldn't have turned from you like that."

Michael stops. He hadn't forgotten the way that she and Bird Mask Simon had run out of the building while he and Jeremy Fitzgerald tried to pull his brother out, the way she refused to look at him after, but it had certainly hurt less and less over the years. In fact, he completely understands it.

"Ramona… we were teenagers. Hell, we were barely teenagers. A couple of years earlier, we were preteens. I don't blame you at all. Even if it still hurts, I forgive you. Besides, it's been like. Decades. We've both died… apparently multiple times now."

She laughs wetly, tears dripping down her nose. Her voice drips with fondness as she speaks. "You and your stupid guilt complex."

Michael reaches a hand out to her, intending to help her up. Instead she pulls him down with a plume of red and wraps him into a fully encompassing hug, legs locking around his back, and arms around his head and neck. Briefly he's struck with a feeling of deja vu. She would always wrap her legs around whoever she was hugging.

He can't believe he forgot that about her.

The fog resettles as he pulls her in tighter with his own arms, face falling into the neck of someone who was basically another sibling when he was younger. Suddenly, she starts laughing.

Michael pulls his face out of her neck to look her in the eyes, confusion warping his face. 

She jerks as she snorts before speaking. "You- I can't tell if it's just because we're in our teenage bodies again but you still- you have the same-" she bursts into giggles. " You still smell like metal shavings !"

Michael jokingly frowns at her before pushing her face away. She whines instantly, hands moving to pull at his own and legs tightening around him. His thoughts and worries feel so distant here, with her being just as clingy as she always was before. Still, looking at her whining face something in his memory… jumps. He can't quite pin it down…

The fog of red finally recedes, whips no longer trailing from his messy hair.

"FUCK, Ramona the fucking CHILDREN ."

Ramona jumps, staring at him until the last of the fog leaves, gasping and shoving him off of her. "Hold on where are we ?!"

Michael forces himself to his feet once more, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to her feet. The arm he grabbed quickly latches onto his shirt as she frantically scans their surroundings. Michael however, just stares. After a few seconds Ramona catches his gaze and follows it, freezing.

Together, they shuffle forward with the fog pressing in on their legs.

Michael stops them in front of a lake, watching the dock on the other side. On it, sits a fisherman with a crocodile head. The water is black, with some of the red fog sitting across the surface. The fog is so dense that he only knows the water is black due to the way it dances across the surface.

The crocodile man sighs. "And here we have the final visitors of an era. Cassidy and the demon himself are the only ones I have not managed to convince to let it all go. However, I feel as though that number is about to double." He looks up, meeting their eyes.

"Cassidy calls me Old Man Consequences. Hello Michael Afton, Ramona Garcia. I have been waiting for you two to appear here for a very long time. I apologize for your teenage appearances, however it was the only point in time that you two were close enough physically for me to draw you here together. Usually the people who come here are alone, and I didn't want to have the same exact conversation twice."

Michael gasps, feeling as though a vice grip on his tongue has loosened. His hands start shaking, and one foot slams into the ground behind him to either stabilize himself or run away. Next to him, Ramona jerks before shoving herself into his side, pulling the hand still on her arm around her shoulders instead.

Despite no longer being forced into silence, Michael's tongue still feels heavy, too big for his mouth as his stomach churns with pressure. Still, Michael has never let something as small as his physical condition stop him before.

"Where… where are we."

Despite himself, he still feels a spark of joy at the voice coming out of his mouth. It's not his raspy post-mortem voice, nor the robotic and American Freddy voice. It's his voice, the one he developed through his life. No wires have touched that voice, no words stolen out of it and sending him into painful coughing fits. He couldn't think about it before, not with the fog and following panic.

Old Man Consequences tilts his head slightly, made more clear by the long flat snout. "Isn't It obvious? Here, come sit. Cassidy forced me to install this dock for a reason."

Michael swallows. Looking into the water, he can't help but feel that it would suck him in if he got too close. Somehow, he'd still rather go into the water than over to Old Man Consequences.

Still, he has one of his best friends by his side in this afterlife, so he can take his chances. Tightening the arm around Ramona, he starts walking around the pond, keeping himself between Ramona and the water. He half expects his feet to squish in the water, trample the grass, but nothing happens. Everytime he looks back he finds no trail showing where they were. 

They reach the man, sitting on the dock with their feet firmly out of the water and fog. The old man chuckles, hands moving to draw in his line and put down the pole.

"I've seen both of you before, even if you don't remember it. Michael was so faint that first time… I wasn't even sure if he was really there. That second time he came in, he was completely unconscious. He just appeared, slept for a week, and vanished. That's what happens when you pump a boy full of remnant."

Michael meets his eyes, the weirdness of human eyes in a crocodile face not coming like he expected. He must've spent too much time around William's creations. "What do you mean by that?"

Old Man Consequences drops slightly, like the weight of the world on his shoulders managed to get even heavier. "He needed to test his findings somehow. Elizabeth was a proof of concept. Could he really have the animatronics kill kids themselves? The answer was yes, but then the robots took the remnant. Then, your brother. Could he make illusions so strong that they could inflict physical harm? Again, yes. And then you, Michael. What happens when you fill a human being with excess remnant? Even now, you have much more remnant than you should at your soul's age."

He sighs. "Calling remnant the key to immortality is a fool's goal. All it does is keep your soul tethered, unable to pass on."

Michael stares into the water. It feels like it's reaching out for him, though not in that same ominous beckoning from before. It still feels scary, but he knows that it will always seem that way. He'd rather think about the water, or Ramona's tightening grip on his arm around her shoulders than the possibility of William only having kids as test subjects.

And the worst part about it is that it makes sense. Why would a mad scientist child serial killer have three kids? For mad science, of course. But still, he thought that he had at least loved Elizabeth. 

The silence lingers, threading heavily through the air just like the fog on the water. 

"Then, Ramona. Though not as dramatic as Michael's appearances, you have shown up once before. You were fine, you could've passed on after a few days. However, I could feel your hesitance. Your regrets. I decided not to let you. The second I gave the slightest opposition, you vanished. Almost like you were waiting for an excuse. I guided you towards Michael's soul, and you watched over him for decades, even witnessing his death one year later. You jumped right into Roxanne Wolf the second you could. Of course, not that you remember it."

Ramona lets out a shuddering breath, air ruffling Michael's old mullet. "The kids. Gregory, Cassie. Are they ok?"

Old Man Consequences leans back slightly, shoulders raising as they shift to a lighter topic. "Yes, they are unharmed. Only a few milliseconds have passed, the dust hasn't even reached them yet. Soon, other nearby adults will hold them back from running towards your crushed animatronics."

Michael winces. "The suits… does that mean that we will no longer be around Gregory and Cassie, even if we were to go back down?"

"In another world… perhaps. Michael has enough remnant to possess things for the next few centuries, though Ramona has merely a fraction of the amount. However, just because I deal with dead people doesn't mean I want excess. The fewer people who die means more time to fish. If I were to rip you from those children… they would not last very long."

Ramona makes a noise of audible heartbreak, one hand pressing against her mouth as her eyes water. Michael in turn stares at the elder with wide eyes. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a whisper. "What… what are you saying?"

Old Man Consequences pushes himself to his feet, popping his hands and back before walking steadily closer to the duo.

"I can't just let two children die on my watch, now can I?"

Michael gasps at the feeling of a hand on his back, and water quickly replaces the space in his mouth.

Ramona's fingers drift from his arm, and the water surrounds him on all sides.

Michael drowns.

Chapter Text

Screams come from the surroundings, eyes glued to where everyone knows four squished beings reside. While the adults may not have known about the life in the Freddy Fazbear and Roxanne Wolf animatronics, children have always been better at seeing life where there isn't any. Some shed tears at the sight of the children's own, some over the people who may have caused this but still deserved to live. Some shake, either in anger or residue fear. How dare the perpetrators face death before justice? How dare they dodge the people's fury at what they have done? How could they do this to a building filled with children? How could they call everyone into an area to witness the end of life?

Two children in particular are held back, tears streaming down their faces as they try to jerk towards the settling rubble, ignoring the fire and how unstable the rocks are. Other children cry and mourn beloved mascots, but these two desperately whisper for their new parents. Calling silently for those who promised to protect them. The other children scream and yell after the silence of shock lifts, leaving as the dust hits the floor. They're almost drowned out by the sounds of pipes tearing, bursting. Water cascading from the torn ceiling, the walls, electric sparks dripping down like rain after a tornado.

The building groans as it settles, fire hissing under the spray. One of the two children slumps against her captor, resigning herself to losing yet another parental figure in her life. The other child snarls and twists, seeming near feral as he tries to bite at the hands holding him back. People keep evacuating through the elevator, mouths twisting into surprised “Oh”s as others tap them, trying to get as many in as they can. Some people ignore the carnage and dart into the elevators with no regard to the people around them, considering their family or themselves as a higher priority. Others push their family through before waiting to corral others inside. Others stand still, ears ringing as they stare blankly at the collapsed walls, cumbling attraction, flames dying with the last breath of the broken pipes.

After an hour, even the boy has lost steam, panting as his struggles become less effective. The elevator opens to the police instead of an empty space, causing the people who were ready to go right in to stumble and be yanked back by others. The one clearly in charge makes a loud and pointed joke about the lack of stairs, no one laughs. Only mumbles greet him. 

With the authorities taking charge, evacuation moves slightly faster and more efficiently. As the two closest to the incident, the adults holding back the children are approached. The children refuse to move, and the adults refuse to leave them. The head officer sighs as the head mechanic reluctantly reveals the children's guardians when asked over their whereabouts, accompanied by a head gesture towards the rubble. The sun moves through the hole, casting harsh shadows and highlighting the contaminants in the air. The final group moves through the elevators, leaving the group of four surrounded by people trying to move the rubble and secure the area. 

----------------------------

Jordan grimaces at the carnage in front of them. Gregory shakes on the ground, shock blanket tucked around his shoulders. Cassie leans against him, face shoved into his neck like his hair will filter the settling dust away from her nose despite her oxygen mask. Both of their faces are desaturated, coated in dust with clear lines defining their tear tracks. Paramedics linger nearby, trying to discuss the best way to remove the children from the situation, to check their lungs with how long they sat in the falling soot. Byte already left to make sure he's fine, leaving Jordan to watch the children. They know they can, they don't have a foster license for nothing, but that doesn't stop the fact that these children just lost their parents. No matter how little time Roxy and Cassie were together, they still clearly loved each other. Freddy was the only reason Gregory survived, though Jordan can't doubt that the gremlin would have figured it out without the bear.

They sigh, pressing their hands onto the kid's shoulders. Cassie peaks at them through Gregory's hair, the boy himself only flicking his eyes up before they latch back onto the rubble where Freddy vanished. 

"We have to get checked out. We can come back tomorrow, as soon as possible."

Gregory swallows dry, eyes flicking down before being dragged right back. Cassie sniffles, probably leaving snot in Gregory's hair, before pulling away. She takes a deep breath and pushes herself to her feet, holding the shock blanket tight over her chest with one hand as the other tugs Gregory up. He stands slowly, the blanket slipping off of his shoulders as his hands hang limply by his sides. Leaving one hand on Cassie, Jordan leads them over to the medical area, only stopping briefly to pick up the blanket. The medics slump in relief, herding the children off to be looked over. Something in Jordan twists, not wanting the children to be out of their sight until they feel better, but they shove it down. This will help them, and Jordan knows that. Still, they have to take a deep breath before letting themself be taken away. 

Climbing into their truck with Cassie safely tucked between them and Gregory is a new experience. Usually they have to ride in the big trunk alone. Out of their own boredom, they might have modified it a bit too much. Still, it purrs like a cat instead of roaring in that way which has always hurt their ears. Gregory relaxes under the rumble, leaning into Cassie in that same way they've seen on every traumatized child they've come across. That same frown carves it way onto their face. They've seen far too many of those.

Jordan pulls out of the parking lot gently, for more gently than they've ever driven it before, even during their drivers test or driving education class. Their hands are clammy as they clasp the steering wheel, little aroma trees swaying softly with the turns of the vehicle. Their phone vibrates in their back pocket where they had forgotten it hours ago. Pulling into their house is almost embarrassing, but looking over and seeing the children both asleep against each other lets them forget.

They step out into their garage and circle to the other door, grabbing both kids with one arm and carrying them inside. They bypass their own room, followed by the first guest room, before slipping inside the second guest room. Leaving both kids asleep inside, they turn the door knob to close the door as silently as possible. Resting their forehead against the door, they heave a big sigh. Turning back to where they came, they peek inside the first guest room. Inside, Harold snores softly in a messy room. Rolling their eyes as they grab their phone, smeared with grease from that morning, they send off a few texts before seeing who messaged them earlier.

Chomp: I know u only gave me the # for emergencies an shit but this kinda counts right

Chomp: an like I wanna make sure the infants are good yknow

Chomp: they babys, so small

Chomp: how hard do u think I'd have to punt them for them to fly

Chomp: just

Chomp: *kick* weeeeee…

Chomp: not that I would obviously, that is morally incorrect

Chomp: plz message back im going insane

Jordan sighs, brain flashing to their extensive message history. "For emergencies my ass…" They force themself to reply anyway.

Me: Theyre sleeping.

Chomp: 🥺

Chomp: is it cute

Me: Theyre children, of course its cute.

Jordan turns off their phone, uncaring of the interrupted buzzing. They push open the door to their own room and flop into their bed so hard it seems like they morph together. 

----------------------------

As the head mechanic, Jordan is called back for retrieval of the animatronic parts. Of course, they force Byte to come along for assistance. Those parts are not only heavy but delicate, and they doubt that the cleanup crew will be careful enough to preserve as much of the electronics as they can. Still, picking up pieces of smashed metal underneath pieces of crumbled wall is no one's idea of a good time, especially when Jordan had to bring the kids. Harold, after being lectured about appearing without a heads up, had gone to school. Cassie's school was letting her stay out for some time to readjust, and Jordan is pretty sure that they were still trying to set up Gregory for online schooling, so neither of them had any obligations that would take up any time. Even if Jordan had wanted to leave them, the gremlins had refused outright the second they were told where Jordan was heading.

They grumble under their breath as they unearth Freddy's head, the whole thing being shockingly intact if you ignore the cave in and missing ear, eye, and half the teeth. The lower jaw is partially detached, but comparing it to the other pieces, it's barely a problem. Peeking inside the head, they find one paw that they hadn't seen around the arm. They purse their lips and think back to the accident. They had closed their eyes against the force of the explosion, but they think they remember Freddy lifting their claws to block their head, like a kid in a tornado drill. The red mist drifting out of the head is the most concerning part really, since they have no clue what would cause that. Still, they push the thought down and place the head with the rest of Freddy, now only missing that second hand.

Ahead of them, Byte yelps out a curse and flings their hand around, drawing attention to himself. Gregory's eyes fly to him, while Cassie's had never left since she found out he was finding Roxy.

- Jordan hates that they have to be here, it's like black tendril curling around their heart the longer the two children have to stand and watch as bits of their guardians are unearthed. Even if Freddy and Roxanne were just animatronics, it still feels like waving a decapitated head in front of the head's child. From the looks on their faces, it must feel pretty similar. -

Jordan keeps his eyes on the small hole they lifted Freddy's head from, ignoring Byte as he whines about a rock shifting to squish his hand. They reach in, slightly blindly since they don't have a flashlight, and their fingers close around a chunky finger. Putting in their other hand, they pull out the entire hand in one go, scooping out detached fingers with a practiced apathy. They place it down near the corresponding arm, pausing as that same red mist is displaced by the air.

They back up and look over the bear animatronics body. Near the middle of the pile, the red mist is thicker, more like a fog, and it dissipates further from the center it gets while never moving past the area of the parts. 

Jordan sighs, eyebrows twitching, before whispering under their breath. "This is not my problem." 

They resolutely ignore the fact that this is, in fact, their problem as the head mechanic.

Jordan turns their back on the issue, couching by the portable refrigerator to take out a cutesy ice pack. The fog flares as they walk straight through it, swirling around their legs. They keep their eyes off of it with a determination they haven't had since they graduated in front of a bunch of people who hated them.

Gregory's eyes are glued to the fog with something like awe in his gaze, but that's related to the fog and they are not touching that with a ten foot pole. They reach Byte just as he's placing down the last part on Roxanne, her left foot. He's handling the piece with one hand, the other held against his chest. Unlike Jordan's pile, with all of the pieces in their approximate places, Byte has gone out of his way to try and place the parts down in a vaguely Roxanne shape. They grab Byte free hand, pressing the ice pack into it. Byte jerks at the contact, whining and pouting at the cold, but doesn't pull his hand away. They lean down together as Byte places the foot down. 

They groan as red mist is displaced by the foot, before floating back to it. The mist reaches around the robot like hands, sticking to it and refusing to leave its general area, same as with Freddy.

"Byte, what's the red fog?"

Byte hums, rolling his bottom lip around his teeth as he thinks. "I can't think of any component in them that would make red smoke, and this is too thin to be that. Those are usually around wood fires, but these don't have any wood. Maybe it's magic or some shit, I wouldn't be surprised if these were cursed."

"You wouldn't be surprised if the two most parental animatronics were cursed? What would the curse be, dying before your children will kill everyone around you with oxygen deficiency? This isn't thick enough for that, or spreading far enough."

Byte shugs. "I dunno dude, I ain't no occultist. That spiritual junk is not my forte."

Gregory appears next to them, pulling a nervous Cassie alongside him. "Freddy and Roxy were possessed. This is probably related."

Byte coughs, pressing his free hand against his chest. "They were- mc'fuckin'- huh?"

Gregory meets his eyes. "Possessed yeah. Freddy was possessed by a guy named Michael. I never actually asked Roxy her name, but she confirmed that she was possessed."

Jordan blinks blankly at him. They heave a big sigh. "I don't have enough fucking coffee for this. The robots are possessed, sure. Why not? Is the mist their souls or whatever?"

Gregory tilts his head before couching to poke at the fog, which disperses passively before returning to swirl around his finger. "Looks pretty not-alive to me."

Cassie joins him. The mist doesn't react. 

"Ey, dudes, is it just me or does the smoke look thicker around the middle than earlier?"

Four pairs of eyes latch onto the center. Jordan steps back, unable to see Roxanne underneath the hoard of red.

"... We should probably back away and let whatever weird ghost shit is about to happen, happen."

Jordan nods, grabbing Byte and backing away while Cassie sits down and Gregory turns toward Freddy. Their lips pucker, but trying to take these kids away from what may be their parents leaves a bitter taste in their mouth.

Honestly, they're just glad that the rest of the people aren't paying their little group much attention. 

The mist swirls faster, moving visibly where it wasn't before. The edges pull in, making more of an oval than a circle, which rises into a spinning pillar of fog at the feet of the robotic bodies. At the same time, they condense, something unlike fog and more like a black hole, sucking in the light and colors surrounding them. The first one to stop is Roxanne's. A young woman forms out of the red, fog drifting off of her body and hair as she drops to her knees and coughs up a black ichor.  Her jean shorts and tights are both ripped, matching the tattered fishnet shirt under a pale yellow crop top. She groans and shakes her head around, curly brown and/or black hair smacking her in the face as she gains her barings. She opens her eyes, and if there was any room for doubt left in Jordan's head with all of the shock and disbelief it would be gone at the sight of Roxanne's wolfish eyes on the stranger, and they dart around sluggishly before landing on Cassie.

The stranger lifts her arms, a wet smile tugging itself across her lips, and Cassie dives into her without any hesitation. Looking at the two, they look almost related. Roxanne's skin color is only a few shades warmer than Cassie's own, her hair more wavy then Cassie's tighter curls. 

Jordan drags their eyes away from Cassie and her mom, resting on where the other- Michael - has slowed down.

----------------------------

Hey. So, I personally don't think it's that bad, but I don't have a beta so I'm giving you a warning just in case. If you get squeamish easily then don't read the next three paragraphs I guess? There’s also a brief mention of puking but it's not graphic at all. It's in the third paragraph.

----------------------------

Michael feels like all of his organs are disintegrating. He gags on the water flooding his body, burning him from the inside out, tearing through him like a kid on their birthday. Or a kid's head on their birthday. Michael feels his eyes fill with tears but all that does is swarm his eyes with that same burning, twisting, tearing, unmaking, remaking , feeling of the water that's slipping between his teeth and his gums, his skin and his muscles, his veins, his nerves, everything is on fire . He thinks he once read somewhere (he doesn't remember where) that the funny bone feels like being on fire, electrocuted, and something else (he can't think ) all at the same time but that has nothing on feeling fingers of lava curling inward and inward, closer and closer to his chest, twinning around his torso, his lungs, his heart, yet skimming across the surface of his skin like it's playing constellation with his freckles the way Lizzy used to. It lasts three minutes and ten hours and two days and five years and half a second all at the same time and his mind can only focus on the water because the water is all that there is, was, and ever has been. It drags him drown with a vengeance while hiding his tears from the world that never saw him cry to begin with. His lungs are filled with the black water, coated in the fog, pressing against both the inside and the outside and he's never wanted anything to stop more in his life, because at least the scooper was centralized pain instead of everything, everywhere, all of the time. At least most of his nerves were dead long before the fire even started.

The water somehow gets heavier and lighter at the same time, more solid and real while less dense and present. His hands curl into his shirt, and somewhere in the back of his mind he notices the way his arms are now covered with sleeves which bunch with his movements. He curls in tighter as the water swirls around him, fading more until it feels more like the fog then water, and he forces his eyes open. Michael only sees red, he's drowned in it and now he's suffocating as the water in his body sits as heavy as ever. He gags into the fog as the water revolts, having seeped into every inch of his body and trying to leave through his mouth, nose, eyes-

He flails his arms which didn't but did and never have and always will exist before his feet even hit the ground, pinwheeling as he feels a weight to his own life which wasn't there moments before, his heart beating and eyes opening and lungs struggling as he gags and vomits up more of that black water before his knees and ass hit the ground and stabby bits below him. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, He winces and groans at the familiar feeling of machinery digging into his ass and calves. Michael lifts himself up and shifts to the side, off of the parts and away from the water either evaporating or disintegrating on the ground. 

After resettling, his eyes sting as they roam over his surroundings. They freeze on the younger boy in front of him, watching him with wide but scared eyes.

His voice croaks as he uses it, scratching and burning at his throat like the water was still pillaging his systems. "Gregory?"

The boy's watery eyes widen more, breath catching as he takes one involuntary step forward. The hope and pain in his features war with each other, taking over his usual forced indifference and determination. "Are-... are you Michael?"

Michael's muscles scream in protest as he tilts his head at Gregory, smiling despite the pain still tugging on his very being. "Hello, Superstar."

He gasps out a sharp breath as Gregory plasters himself to Michael's chest, practically headbutting his sensitive ribs and curling up underneath a massive, oversized letterman jacket that Michael has never seen before. He wraps his arms around his kid, taking in the sight of himself and his clothing. The letterman is white with red accents, covered in stitched on animatronic faces. Over his heart sits the original Foxy and Helpy, tilted towards each other. He can't see his back, but he can see a stylized Toy Foxy with a background of wires, simplified Circus Baby, and a small Fredbear with "You're not You when You're Hungry!" written next to it. He stares at it for a few seconds, unsure whether to tear it off or laugh.

Thankfully he doesn't have to make a decision as Gregory grips onto his shirt and buries himself further into his side. The boy's breathing stutters, coming out more as sobs then breaths. He takes a slower, deeper inhale, holding it even as it hitches before letting it out in a word. "… Dad …"

Michaels heart has never felt so full and so shattered at the same time.

He only manages to tear his eyes off of the kid- ( his kid, his son ) at the sound of sputtering behind him. He turns, finding Byte and Jordan both staring at him. Byte is holding up a heavily damaged phone, pointing it at both him and- fuck.

"Ra- ack . Ramona?" His voice crackles and catches in his throat. The whisper carries across the silent building and he's suddenly very aware of the construction workers picking their jaws up off the floor. Eyes prickle against the bottom of his spine. The other meets his gaze, holding on to Cassie ( Cassie !) and yet slowly moving her back. Cassie grumbles in confusion and displeasure, big eyes pleading at Ramona who ignores it in favor of forcing herself to her feet. Michaels eyebrows raise. With the pain ebbing but still present, she's a lot stronger than him. He would only force himself to stand with promises of so much ice cream.

(He ignores that he has, in fact, experienced excruciating pain and proceeded to keep walking even though he could've just lied there and let the neighbors call the cops on his rotting corpse. The stakes are significantly lower now, and he's not at possible immediate risk of being vivisected by the government. Or whatever else would've happened to him.)

She reaches a hand out and Cassie grabs it without hesitation, letting herself be led over to where Michael and Gregory sit. Once she reaches them, her legs give out, crashing into his other side with a grunt. " Fuuuck . I know this is a miracle and all but my legs are aching . I feel like a newborn fawn." Her voice is less messed up then his, much to his annoyance.

"W- e ll. Technic- cuh - technically…"

"Shut your fuck, Michael."

He lifts one hand to wack her in the shoulder. She turns to bite at the air his hand has already vacated as Gregory laughs under his coat. Michael huffs a laugh as well, mindful to make no sound since his voice is getting worse the more he speaks. Ramona grumbles as footsteps approach.

"We don't even exist legally anymore. We can't adopt kids if we're legally dead, Mikey. No housing for corpses, unless you count morgues. Which I don't."

Jordan and Byte round her side, one meeting their gaze while the other stares wide eyed into his phone, clearly having been recording for some time. Gregory snorts at him.

"Really, Byte?"

"Hey, if supernatural shit is happening then I'mma get proof, little man. Would the government believe that these two just fucking swirled into existence or would they think we're all high?" Byte taps at his temple, finally lowering his phone. Jordan groans and pinches the bridge of their nose, eyes closed. 

"We should probably call the cops though, since we have two living dead people who need identification."

Michael slumps in place, curling into Gregory as he mimes a groan.

Chapter Text

Ramona laughs victoriously in the living room as Gregory groans in disappointment. She tosses the controller into her lap and throws her arms in the air, flaunting. "That's right, baby! Mario Kart Champion!"

Gregory huffs. "How are you so good at video games, you're sixty!"

"This game came out when I was in my thirties."

He scoffs, "You don't remember your thirties, you were dead ."

She purses her lips and inclines her head in his direction. "True, but you weren't alive either."

Before Gregory can retaliate, the door slams open. " Gregory ! If I'm ever forced to go to school while you get to stay home and play video games again, I am committing a murder."

A snort. "Your granduncle Willy isn't a good role model."

Gregory and Cassie both gape at her. Gregory starts sputtering. "Wha- don't- do not- That smelly old rabbit corpse is not my grandpa!"

Ramona smirks. "Then you can't make fun of Mikey for having a serial killer father, you can't have your cake and eat it too."

Gregory frowns at her as he pushes himself off of their couch, walking over to the front door and handing the controller to Cassie. She gasps in delight and races to jump over the couch, while Gregory closes the front door behind him. The noises of Cassie choosing her character fade into nothing, covered by the sounds of the outside. In the driveway, Michael curses under his breath as he tries to wrestle bags out of the trunk of the car.

It's strange. While living in the plex he never thought he'd get used to waking up in a brand new life where he doesn't have to fend for himself. Now he wakes up to Cassie invading his bed, Ramona throwing a water bottle at his face, or his dad gently shaking him awake. It gives him no time to be lost in his past. He likes it, not being dragged back to that point in his life.

"Dad!" Gregory starts jogging over, snorting as Michael jumps and drops a bag. He pouts at it for a second before looking back up to Gregory.

"Hey kid, what is it?"

Gregory picks up the bag and joins Michael in removing them. "You got a job at the pizzaplex after they saw your full, unedited job history, right?"

Michael pauses to raise an eyebrow at the boy. "Yes? You already knew this. You were there when I got the call."

"Today is your first day as the first night shift mechanic, right?"

"Uhhh…" Michael juggles the bags trailing down his arms, closing the trunk with his leg and hip, and mashes his cheek against his watch face. "Yeah, that's today."

"Are you excited?" Gregory clasps his hands together, locking his bags in their place where they're looped over his arms.

The older one snorts, lips tugging into a smile. "What is this, my first day of school? C'mon, out with it. I know you want something, or you wouldn't have brought it up."

Gregory blows a raspberry at his father as he opens the door, heading into the kitchen to drop the groceries off. Or in Gregory's case, literally dropping them since nothing he's carrying is delicate.

"Well, since you're twisting my arm I guess I'll tell you."

"I literally just asked you to share."

"I can't believe you're forcing the words out of my mouth."

Michael laughs. "You're such a little shit."

"And you love me anyway. Now, I want you to take me with you."

Michael pauses, hums to himself before continuing to pack away the groceries while Gregory watches. "I'm pretty sure I'd need permission to bring you. Also we're trying to keep you on a more consistent sleep schedule so you can go to school. We don't want your insomnia watch messages coming back."

"How was I supposed to know that the fazwatches only congratulate you on sleeping if you have trouble with it?"

"That's not the point." Michael turns and meets Gregory's eyes. "The point is that I don't know if I'm allowed to bring you, and it goes late. I wouldn't want you to be exhausted before it's time to leave, and you wouldn't have adrenaline keeping you awake this time."

Gregory's eyes spark with determination. "Wake me up at dinner then."

Michael blinks in confusion, but before he can say anything, Gregory is already sprinting to his bed. Ramona, having been listening through the sounds of screaming toads, laughs at him.

----------------------------

"If we get in trouble for this, I'm blaming you."

"Not very mature of you, Dad."

"This is a franchise with a history of dead children, and I am bringing a child who was once a target into it."

"This is also where I lived before you got fleshy."

"…Don't word it like that."

----------------------------

"Jessica!"

"FUCK."

Michael laughs at the two as Gregory barrels Jessica to the ground. She squirms until nothing is pressing to the ground uncomfortably under the weight of a small child before glaring at him. Gregory grins back at her, even as Michael ruffles his hair in passing. She gapes at him before throwing herself upwards, clamping her arms down over Gregory to ensure he doesn't go flying. 

"You're Michael, right? I was given a run down from the company, they showed Byte's video."

Michael turns and blinks at her. "Ah? Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot that we only met before."

"It's so weird to think about! You were in the body of a massive robot bear last I met you, it's like my brain can't make the connection between you." She runs up to him before blanching. "Mother fuck you're tall. Maybe the connection isn't that hard then. All you lost is the width, how's that feel?"

Michael twists to start walking towards the Atrium. Jessica mindlessly follows him, Gregory swinging in her arms. "I am perfectly happy without smacking my shoulders on doorways actually. It sucks to suddenly be huge. Especially being huge when no one thinks you're sentient, I had a lot of redneck dads wack me in the back and start joking about their marriages to each other. It was pretty weird."

"You're British?"

Gregory sighs. "I know, it's so awful. I wake up in the morning and have to listen to him being all British an' posh"

Michael steps into the elevator with a snort. "You clearly don't know me that well if you think I'm posh ."

"Well, it's nice to have you here regardless. I went so long without seeing my little gremlin child! You mechanics have been hoarding him, the newest nightguard hasn't even met him yet." Jessica pouts, resting her cheek on Gregory's forehead as he squirms to try and escape.

"Newest nightguard?"

She perks back up, arms loosening around Gregory just enough for him to escape and cling to his dad instead. "Oh, yeah! Vannessa had been released before since she was rapidly getting better, so they thought she'd be completely good by the time she got back. Apparently her recovery stagnated until the day the bombs went off, and she was asleep when the virus left. Then she didn't wake up in time to warn us since she was exhausted from fighting him for years. Sadly, Vanessa quit since she never actually applied for this job, but then I wasn't getting my nightshift buddy and Gregory wasn't here so I was all alone all night! It sucked. So they sent out offers since this place is too big for just one and now we have another nightguard. They even said they might hire some of the other promising applicants if two people are still not enough."

Michael and Gregory step onto the stage with a familiarity most wouldn't have, while Jessica rests her arms on the stage. 

"Well, here is your stop, thank you for riding with Jessie-Express. I'd offer you a tour like I did Chris, but I'm pretty sure that you know this place better than I do. If I run into him, I'll send him down to meet you."

Gregory and Michael nod in sync as the younger boy presses the button to lower the lift, Michael leaning back on the balls of his feet. Jessica waves goodbye as their heads vanish below the stage. Once out of sight, Gregory turns to Michael and giggles.

"Well, it's been a second since we did this."

Michael rolls his eyes, walking closer with a smile on his face. "And we're coming down here for the same reason, making sure animatronics work the way we need them to. It's just that this time we're making sure they can perform and entertain, not protect us from murderers using parts we nearly sacrificed life and limb for."

He pokes Gregory on the nose, earning a playful swat. "It's not my fault your spirit got knocked out and Freddy's programming didn't know what I was doing." 

"And pushing Chica into the trash compactor isn't?"

"She was trying to kill me, I won't feel bad about it."

Michael sighs, acting like his lips aren't tugging upward. "I can't believe I carried you in my stomach hatch for six hours just for you to treat me like this."

Gregory sputters at Michaels back, running to catch up as his father walks off of the lift and towards Parts and Service. He clings to Michaels arm, tugging him down and stumbling as he tries to rapidly slow his speed. He resolutely ignores the sound of laughter because his dad would never betray him by laughing at him after all they've been through together. Like killing his grandfather (ew) for the third time.

Gregory looks up at Michael, meeting his weirdly purple eyes with his own brown ones. "Why are your eyes purple?"

Michael hums, tilting his head at an angle. "Well, there's two possibilities. I was born with blue eyes so maybe the red fog infected them, but we can't tell with Ramona since her eyes are brown."

Gregory nods slowly, running the idea over in his mind. "And the other one?"

"My eyes glowed purple when I was a zombie, which might have something to do with it." Gregory stops, Michael stopping as well due to the grip on his arm. "Hm? What is it?"

"Your eyes glowed ?"

"…Yeah?"

"Do they still glow?"

Michael raises an eyebrow, tugging his arm forward as a warning before continuing to walk. "Well I haven't exactly checked. If they still glow then I'm used to it and didn't notice"

Gregory half runs next to him in an attempt to keep up with his longer legs. He tugs on Michaels arm, pulling him back slightly. "We have to check then!"

Michael obligingly slows down enough for his kid. "Sure, we can turn off the lights inside."

Gregory lets go of Michael to run ahead, throwing open the door of the Parts and Service room. He runs towards the generators, eyes skimming across the labels. He stops in front of the generator for the lights, separated from everything else because of how much power the room uses as a whole. Michael pushes the doors open, eyes catching on Gregory near instantly. They roll as he settles, leaning against the wall connected to the doors. Gregory nods at him, Michael closes his eyes, and the lights flicker off.

In the far edges of the room, sparks dance along the floor, illuminating empty side rooms and limp animatronic skeletons. Gregory's eyes sit glued on a specific spot in the middle of the pitch black room. Michael heaves a loud sigh before purple eyes light up, glowing. Not enough to be a flashlight like Freddy's, but enough to make his face and collar visible. Sort of like wearing a crown of glowsticks. Michael lifts a hand to his face at the sound of Gregory's giggles. 

"Oh, damn. That's a lot stronger than before. How on earth did no one ever mention me glowing?"

"How strong was it before?"

Michael looks up, hands lowering. His eyes find Gregory instantly despite the lack of light around him. "They weren't bright enough to light up anything, just glow a little."

Gregory hums, turning the lights back on. The sparks along the edges vanish in the light, only echoing in their ears and memories. Michael grunts, covering his eyes for a second before blinking them into adjusting. In the now bright room, the evidence of the daytime mechanics work is evident. While the pizzaplex is still closed indefinitely, there's a team effort to try and repair the animatronics. The building is mostly fixed, disregarding the raceway, but the animatronics are more complicated than a building. In the four months since the reconstruction started, most of the pieces have been either fixed or replaced. Some still sit in a distant pile of scrap to be potentially remade into something different. Leaning against the inside of the cylinder sits Freddy, partially reassembled. His head sits separate, hole patched but unpainted, missing fewer teeth than before, and with one of the extra eyes resting on his cheek. The newer eye is shinier, proving that they haven't even tried to clean the robot yet with all of the workload they have, even though cleaning them would allow for an opportunity to find and organize every part and ensure they don't have to remove overlapping parts again to clean it later. 

"Why are they putting him together so weird?"

Michael steps forward to poke Freddy on the nose. "Uuh, I think they're focusing on the shell first. Making sure he still looks nice before making sure he moves nice. A lot of making and fixing robotics is taking shit apart, fitting it together, taking it apart again, making sure it all fits, fine tuning, and putting it back together again before realizing you missed something and have to take it apart."

Gregory hums. "Like the microwave."

"Just because I let you keep our old microwave does not mean I want to keep hearing about it. We only bought a new one because someone decided to risk radiation."

"I put it back together."

Michael clicks his tongue. "Gregory."

Gregory puts his hands up, surrendering. "Jeez, ok I get it. No more dismantling the electronics that we're using."

"Thank you."

…

"I didn't lose any parts so I don't know why-"

"Gregory, do you not know how dangerous-"

----------------------------

After a few hours of working, the door is pushed open. The person on the other side grunts, and the door starts opening faster. The door is weighted so people can't grab parts and run, but it also catches new people off guard. Gregory remembers watching Quincey faceplant into the door on his first day, and he proceeded to be uptight and defensive about it while also acting like the door killed his parents. Still, the newest Nightguard must've been warned as he pushes the door open as one would push a boulder up a hill, which might be a little bit overkill. He straightens, speed walking out of the way of the closing door with small steps. His wrists hang near his chest as he turns to watch it close. Once it clicks shut, he searches the sides of the room before his eyes rest on them. Michael wipes his hands off, one of the compartments had exploded oil everywhere and they had to spend ten minutes washing it out of Gregory's hair, and walks over to meet him. 

"Hey, welcome to Parts and Service. Watch out for the parts, because you'll definitely need service after."

Gregory rolls his eyes, hiding a snort behind a greasy hand. The other blinks, lips pulling into an awkward smile. 

"Uh, Chris. New night- uh, yeah." He mumbles under his breath, but still loud enough for both of them to hear in the silent room. " You already know that, I'm wearing the badge and everything." He raises his eyes back up to Michael's neckline, his ear, or maybe his hair with the way they dart around. "I was told to meet the- uh- the um. You. And the… "Feral Gremlin Child."

Gregory gasps, Michael snorting and shoving his slick hands into his back pockets. "Yeah, that's accurate." Gregory kicks him in the shin, he reacts by pasting his dirty hand against the younger's face, pushing him away. "He hasn't been fully domesticated and if I ever see a day he is , I'll be shocked."

Chris watches them with wide eyes, hands twisting and twining around each other. "Yeah, I auh, I can tell. How was your… resurrection?"

Michael shrugs. "Needed some spiritual trauma to match the emotional and physical."

"Ah. Great." Chris is visibly sweating. His eyes dart around their torsos as he rocks backwards on his heels. "Sounds festive." He winces, before turning in a quick circle and grabbing the door as words tumbled out of his mouth. "An- uh anyway I should really go back to patrolling the building since the whole reason I got hired was so that Jessica was in charge of this entire place all by herself that's sort of a big job and I wouldhatetoabandonher BYE."

He uses his body weight to tug the door open, before fleeing (as it was clearly a retreat) as fast as could be polite. Michael snorts, smearing grease on Gregory's shoulder as he places his hand down.

"Looks like someone finds the dead man intimidating. Makes sense, me before I died probably would have "

Gregory rolls his eyes. "I’m pretty sure he's just awkward. You're about as intimidating as a paper bag."

Michael raises an eyebrow. "That's because I don't want you to be intimidated by me. My eyes glow and I'm tall enough to brain myself on door frames."

Gregory disregards him, turning back to Freddy's shell. Michael follows, eyes dragging up and down the metal with a critical eye. Gregory's lips thin.

"It's… weird. Don’t you think this is weird? That was your body ."

Michael hums. "I guess to most people it would be strange. I've had to get used to seeing a lot of things in the mirror, but even the bloody corpse was a more welcoming sight than Freddy."

"Hah, British."

"Hush Gremlin."

They circle around Freddy again, going back to their rhythm of cleaning and painting the parts requiring it. All of the parts absent have already been ordered and just need reattaching. It's a rather quick process, Michael has experience with painting animatronics, and had already coached Gregory through the cleaning process earlier in the night. By the end of the night, they even manage to get some of Roxy finished while waiting for Freddy to dry. Only an hour before he has to clock out, they decide to reassemble the bear. 

Gregory watches with wide eyes as Michael puts the finishing touches on the animatronic, checking his claws and eyes, before switching him online. Freddy's blue eyes light up, he sits up and locks onto Gregory. His head tilts, eyes and ears staying static. The head straightens, then turns to catch Michael.

"This is an employee only area. Is your son allowed to be back here, Mr. Afton?"

Michael flinches. "Change employee designation to Michael. Reasoning label being that I have mass amounts of trauma. And yes, Freddy, Gregory is fully capable of keeping himself safe back here."

"Employee designation accepted. Gregory Afton permissions updated. It seems I'm not fully connected to the network, and cannot inform my friends. I apologize, I'll inform them as soon as I am able, Mr. Michael."

Freddy nods, blinking as his head dips. His hands raise to allow his pointer fingers to circle around each other. They don't touch, staying the same distance away from each other as they spin. Coded in fidgeting, just like the rest of the cast.

Just like the rest of the cast, except that it was mostly Freddy that first night with only influences from Michael's subconscious. Despite the fact that Freddy is no longer quite as human as he used to be, he's still Gregory's favorite. 

"Enter rest mode, ok Freddy? The plex is currently shut down for maintenance, so showtime won't be for some weeks."

Freddy nods again, the same speed and distance, before the flashlights shining in his eyes fade.

Gregory takes a deep breath. He turns to Michael. "I'm glad you aren't trapped in Freddy anymore. You look happier to be yourself."

Michael smiles at him, awkward and like he isn't quite sure how the skin should be pulling around his face as he always does. "I am. I really am. Now c'mon, let's go home."

Yeah, home. 

----------------------------

Gregory wakes up.

And he doesn't believe he's in his old cardboard box for even a second.