Work Text:
Gregory couldn't say he was surprised, the day Glamrock Freddy sat him down and explained his true identity. After all, they'd already escaped from a Pizzaplex with another pizzeria under it, like some weird Russian nesting doll, containing bloodthirsty animatronics, a huge pile of sentient wires, and a rotting bunny creature. At this point, he didn't think there was much else that could surprise him.
The story saddened him, of course. Glamrock Freddy had told him that he was really Michael Afton. His dad was William Afton, the creator of Fazbear Entertainment, and the man behind the child murders that Gregory had only heard fleeting rumours about.
But Michael's story revealed that there was a lot more to it. The horrific deaths of his siblings, Evan and Elizabeth. Him working at almost every Freddy's location to find answers and avenge the dead children, only for the animatronics to attack him. Getting turned into a skin suit in the process and somehow surviving the ordeal. And the numerous times he'd tried to destroy his father for good, only for him to somehow return.
"I really do hope that the fire at the Pizzaplex was the last time we ever see him, Gregory," said Glamrock Freddy Michael. "Dealing with him has been… well, tiring is probably not a strong enough word. Exhausting? No, probably not either."
"I hope so too," said Gregory.
Michael sighed. "And there is one more thing. I have been torn over whether to tell you, but… something tells me I should."
"What is it?"
"The reason… the reason why I was so drawn to you when we first met, why I so badly wanted you to escape… is because… you remind me of Evan. A lot. You look almost exactly like him."
"Oh." Gregory wasn't expecting to hear that. "I'm… sorry."
"No need to be sorry. You cannot do anything about it. If anything, I should be sorry. I thought that if I could not save Evan, I could at least save you, and that would somehow make up for it. I felt like I was using you to fulfil my own selfish desires, all because I was not a good enough brother back then—"
"I understand," Gregory interrupted. "You've been through so much already. Of course you'd want some sort of way to fix at least one thing." A beat of silence. "I'm sorry you had to deal with me too."
"I already said you do not need to apologise," said Michael kindly. "Anyways, I promise that you are so much more than just a lookalike of Evan. You really are a wonderful kid, Gregory, and I am glad I met you."
Gregory smiled. "Thanks. I'm really glad I met you too."
Michael already knew about the kid's troubled past. The deaths of his parents, and his life on the streets and in various foster homes. He was thankful to have formed a genuine bond with Gregory, instead of him being a way to make Michael feel better about his childhood.
"Alright, superstar. It is getting late. Time for you to go to bed."
"But Freddy," whined Gregory. "Wait, do you want me to call you Freddy or Michael?"
"Well, I would prefer Michael, but either is fine. I have gone by many names."
"But Michael," Gregory continued, without missing a beat. "I'm too old for this."
"Gregory, you are only 12. Now come on."
"Fine."
It had been about a month since they'd escaped from the burning remains of the Pizzaplex. Gregory had stolen taken a company van, which had been parked in a spot where the flames could not reach it, and driven away with Glamrock Freddy. When Freddy needed recharging, he'd used the van's battery to charge him.
They'd lived in the van for the first couple of weeks, with Gregory managing to steal take food and other necessities from the various towns they'd driven through. Eventually, though, on their way out of a rural village, they'd come across an abandoned house. It didn't have much to offer, but was still fairly intact, and it was better than living in the van.
Gregory's "bed" was really a sleeping bag on top of an old, dirty mattress they'd found in the house. Still, it was a huge upgrade from having to sleep in a cardboard box.
Before going to sleep, he powered off Freddy and set him up to recharge. The van's battery hadn't run out yet, but he knew it would eventually. That was a bridge they'd cross when they got to it.
With Freddy (Michael?) charging, Gregory got into his sleeping bag and zipped it up.
"Goodnight, Michael," he said.
He said goodnight every night, even though he knew Michael couldn't hear or respond. Although, this was the first night where he'd called him Michael instead of Freddy.
His mind swirling with everything Michael had told him that day, he drifted off to sleep.
*
When Gregory woke up, there was a young girl standing beside him.
He flinched, slightly startled. "Who are you?!"
The girl sighed. "And just when I thought my days of jumpscaring people were over. I'm Charlotte. But you can call me Charlie."
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Gregory sat up, getting a better look at her. Was it just him, or did she look slightly transparent? He decided not to question it. Again, not the weirdest thing he'd seen these past few days.
"Can you power Michael back on, please?" said Charlie, gesturing to Glamrock Freddy, who was still powered down and charging.
"How do you know that he's Michael?" said Gregory.
"He and I know each other very well."
Gregory narrowed his eyes suspiciously, silently demanding further explanation. Charlie sighed and continued speaking.
"I was William Afton's first victim. And like most of his victims, I ended up possessing an animatronic. But not just any animatronic; it was the Puppet, which was specifically built to watch over and protect children. From the day I died, I have watched over the pizzeria. I know that Michael has worked very hard to learn the truth about his father, and free the souls that William killed. Those souls ended up with me, and I helped them to move on to the afterlife."
Gregory listened intently, trying to understand what she was saying.
"Almost all of those souls have already moved on peacefully. But not all of them. One soul has not been ready to move on. Until now."
"And whose soul is that?" Gregory asked.
Again, Charlie gestured to Glamrock Freddy.
"...you're talking about Michael."
Charlie nodded. "Please switch him on. I need to talk to him."
Gregory got out of his sleeping bag and walked over to Glamrock Freddy, unplugging him from the van's battery and going through the required motions to power him up. As he did, the LEDs in Freddy's eyes glowed yellow, and Gregory could hear the faint sound of motors clicking.
"Good morning, Gregory," said Michael cheerfully.
"Michael, there's someone here to see you," said Gregory.
"Who is it—" began Michael, stopping abruptly once he caught sight of Charlie. Being in a robot body, his expression couldn't change all that much, but Gregory thought he saw something close to disbelief.
"Hi, Michael," said Charlie softly.
"Ch-Charlie?" said Michael. His voice sounded strange, as if he was speaking through a layer of static. "How— why are you here?"
Charlie smiled. "I'm here to set your soul free."
There were a few moments of silence, save for the sound of a bird cawing somewhere outside.
"Set my soul free?" Michael said at last.
"Yes. Now that you have achieved your goal of destroying William Afton, I can release your soul from this world."
"But what does that involve?"
"Well, there is one thing. If I set your soul free, Glamrock Freddy won't exist anymore. Well, I mean, he will still physically exist. But he'll just be a normal robot. He won't act like a human being. No emotions, no personality, no memory, nothing. It's kinda like he… dies."
There was silence as they absorbed this information.
"So I will not be around to take care of Gregory anymore?" said Michael. "I have to leave him alone?"
"It's fine," Gregory cut in. "You can go. I'll be okay. I can survive."
"In all good conscience, I cannot just leave you behind. You are a kid with no proper home to go to. At the very least, you deserve an adult figure in your life."
"How many times have I told you that you don't need to worry about me?!" Gregory snapped. "I've survived long enough on my own, and I'll do it again!"
"I am fine with staying here," said Michael. "The decision is up to you, Gregory."
"Why me? It's your soul!"
"While I like the thought of moving onto the afterlife, your safety and happiness is just as important. Therefore, I am leaving this up to you. I do not mind staying with you, truly."
"For what? Because you see me as a copy of Evan?"
"I assure you, that is not the reason!"
"Alright, you two," said Charlie, trying to dissipate the tension. "I don't have to free Michael's soul. It is entirely your choice. You can allow me to set his soul free, or have him stay here in the body of Glamrock Freddy."
Gregory knew what he wanted to say. Just set him free, Charlie. Let him move on and enjoy the peace that he deserves. I'll be fine.
But instead, all that came out was, "I… I don't know. Can you let me think about it?"
"Of course," said Charlie. "When you've made your decision, just say my name and I'll be there."
She then disappeared into thin air, and Gregory was left staring at the spot where she'd been.
Michael placed a hand on his shoulder. Despite the hand being made of cold metal, it still felt warm and comforting somehow.
"Do not worry, superstar. Take all the time you need."
*
Even though Gregory had been insistent that he was fine with Michael leaving him behind, he wasn't quite sure now that he thought about it.
As much as he hated to admit it, Michael was right; if he allowed Charlie to free Michael's soul, he'd be left all alone. Michael was the closest thing he'd ever had to a parent or a guardian in his life. Sure, he could still survive, but over the last month, he'd come to learn that surviving was very different to living.
Speaking of living, on the other hand, Michael had been in the living world for long enough. And Gregory knew that all he really wanted to do was move on.
"Well, that is not entirely true," Michael told him when he brought this up. "I would be happy in the afterlife, but I would be happy staying here with you. I can stay for as long as you need, I promise."
He smiled at Gregory, but Gregory had spent enough time suppressing his own emotions to know when someone was suppressing theirs. Even when protected by a robotic shell, Gregory could sense the pain and sadness in Michael's voice.
Why wouldn't he? He was all too familiar with hiding it himself.
He almost called Michael out on it. Almost said that he knew he was lying, but it was okay because he knew the feeling, he knew what it was like to push aside your own needs for someone else, because your happiness could never matter—
"Gregory, are you okay? I asked you a question, and you have not responded yet."
"Sorry, I just… zoned out for a little bit. What was the question?"
"What do you really want? Forget about me for a moment. Do you really want me to leave?"
Of course he didn't. Deep down, a small, selfish part of Gregory wanted Michael to stay here forever. To take care of him. To hold him and never let go. But there was no way he could ever say that.
"I don't know," Gregory said. He wasn't lying, either. "I really don't know."
*
Things had changed between the two.
On the surface, everything seemed fine. But Gregory knew when even the slightest thing was wrong. He could tell that Michael's greetings were less cheery than usual, and that the silences between them were longer and more uncomfortable. And more often, he'd catch Michael zoning out in the middle of a task, only for him to snap back to reality and say he was fine when Gregory questioned him.
"You're not fine," said Gregory one day, when Michael gave him that response. He didn't know what caused him to say that. A sudden rush of courage, maybe. Or desperation.
Michael didn't say anything back, and Gregory took his silence as permission to continue.
"You want to leave, don't you? You don't really want to stay here."
Michael still didn't say anything.
"I understand, you know. You don't have to lie about it anymore. You can tell me—"
"Yes," said Michael, so quietly that Gregory almost couldn't hear it. "Yes, I do want to leave. I care about you a lot, but besides that… there is no reason for me to be here anymore."
Gregory wasn't expecting Michael to actually tell the truth. Time and time again, Michael had proven that he valued Gregory's wellbeing over his own. In fact, from what Gregory knew about him, he had valued everyone else's wellbeing over his own. For him to express what he was really thinking came as a bit of a shock, but the response wasn't unexpected.
"I know," said Gregory. "You don't deserve this. You didn't deserve anything you went through." You don't deserve to be stuck here with me, he almost added, but decided against it.
"I just want to move on," said Michael, in a voice that made him sound like he'd be crying if he weren't a robot.
And who could blame him? Gregory had only been here for 12 years. Michael had been here for… well, he didn't know the exact amount of time, but it had been far too long. There was nothing else left for Michael to live for.
Gregory wasn't really thinking about what he was doing when he awkwardly shuffled up to Michael and hugged him.
Even though he was made of metal, he was always nice to hug. There was something about him that made Gregory feel warm and fuzzy.
As Michael hugged him back, Gregory wondered if Michael could feel the warmth of his hug, too. Even in this cold, dark house, he deserved to have some warmth in his life.
*
Every few days, Gregory would go to the nearby village to steal take things they needed.
The day after Michael's confession, Gregory had gone to the village and was now returning back to the house. He'd been away for longer than promised, and knew Michael was going to make a fuss over it.
Except when Gregory entered the house, Michael was nowhere to be seen.
Confused, he put down the items he was carrying next to his makeshift bed and started wandering around, looking for him. The house wasn't big, so it didn't take long for Gregory to search the whole place.
Gregory was about to start calling out for Michael when, through a window, he was just able to catch sight of Michael standing in the field a short distance behind their house. There was someone else there as well; it was Charlie. The two of them seemed to be talking to each other.
Gregory ran out of the house and hid in a nearby bush, close enough to hear their conversation.
"…just worried about him," he heard Michael saying. "I cannot stand the thought of something happening to him."
"I understand," said Charlie. "I don't want anything to happen to him either."
"I feel selfish, thinking about leaving him behind."
"You really worry too much about others." Charlie's voice was not unkind as she said this.
"Well, it takes one to know one, right?" Michael replied, also without malice.
Charlie sighed. "I suppose I can't argue."
They remained silent for a few moments, until Michael spoke up.
"Charlie?"
"Hmm?"
"When can you be set free?"
"When can I… huh. I haven't really thought of that. Well, you can be set free because you achieved your goal of killing William Afton. And my goal is… is to free the souls of Afton's victims."
"So, does that mean?…"
"Yes, I believe so. If I free you, I've achieved my goal. And that means I can be free, too."
"You deserve to move on, too. More than anyone else. You have done so much for all of us, for all the children. You should have been resting a long time ago."
Gregory tuned out the rest of their conversation as he ruminated over this new information. Now it wasn't only one other person he had to consider, but two.
Yes, he'd been through a lot in his own life. Losing one's parents and living a life on the streets was something no one should have to go through. But so was losing one's siblings, and being cursed to never die, and having to soothe the souls of those who had fallen victim to a ruthless serial killer.
No, this wasn't just about him anymore, it never was.
Letting Michael's soul move on also meant letting Charlie's soul move on. All the victims of one heartless man could find peace. The pain and destruction that William Afton had caused would finally be over.
Gregory knew the choice he had to make.
*
"Good morning, Gregory," said Michael, as soon as he was powered on.
"How do I summon Charlie again?" asked Gregory.
He knew he probably should've said good morning back to Michael, but he wasn't really thinking about politeness at that moment.
"I believe she told us to say her name," said Michael, thankfully not commenting on Gregory's lack of manners.
"Okay, then. Um, Charlie? Charlie, where are you? I've made my decision!"
Gregory looked around, but there was no sign of Charlie.
"Hey, where are you? I'm not really sure how this works. Charlie?—"
"Hello, Gregory."
Gregory jumped backwards at Charlie's sudden appearance.
"Geez, someone ought to put a bell on you," he grumbled to himself.
"I'll try not to jumpscare you like that again," said Charlie, smiling slightly. "So, you've made up your mind?"
"Yes. I want you to set Michael free."
"Gregory, are you sure?" Michael cut in quickly. "I do not want you to be alone—"
"I'll manage," said Gregory. "I've lived on the streets for long enough to know what to do."
Silence hung heavy in the air between the three of them. Gregory wondered if he should bring up the conversation he overheard between Michael and Charlie. He eventually decided that there was no harm in telling them; it wasn't like he would ever see them again.
"Look, I heard you two talking in the field yesterday. I heard what Charlie said about her being able to go free as well."
Charlie made a sound akin to inhaling sharply. Gregory didn't know if she was really breathing in or not. Could ghosts breathe? Did they have lungs? Anyways, that wasn't important right now. Gregory continued speaking.
"Charlie, I don't know a whole lot about you, but you deserve to find peace just as much as Michael. The both of you need to rest. I'll be fine. I promise."
Without warning, Michael scooped him up into a hug.
"Thank you, Gregory," he said. "I would rather not have to leave you, but…"
"No, it's okay, I get it. It's not like I'll be alone forever." Under his breath, Gregory added, "I hope."
The two of them stayed like that for a while, neither of them wanting to let go. But eventually, Gregory wriggled out of Michael's grasp.
"I hope it's nice, wherever you're going," said Gregory, voice breaking more than he would've liked.
"I hope so too," said Michael.
"Michael?" said Charlie, quietly, as if afraid of ruining the moment.
She held a cupcake in her hands, and Gregory wondered where she could've possibly got that from.
"Now, normally I'd tell you to eat this, but I don't think you can— oh!"
A strange, misty substance floated out of Glamrock Freddy. As it did, the LEDs in his eyes stopped glowing, and he seemed to shut down.
The misty substance slowly began to take the shape of a person; well, it more closely resembled a zombie, but underneath the rotting flesh there once had been a grown man.
Michael Afton.
Charlie blinked at the ghost (?) several times before handing him the cupcake. "Right. Okay, um. You need to eat this."
Michael took the cupcake and ate it. As he did, Charlie brought out another cupcake and ate it herself. When they were done, Michael turned to Gregory, smiling sadly.
"Goodbye, my superstar. Take care of yourself," he said.
Charlie didn't say anything, but simply waved goodbye. And with that, they both seemed to fade away and disappear.
Even though he knew they couldn't hear him, Gregory still spoke.
"Goodnight, Charlie. And goodnight, Michael."