Chapter Text
She'ssafeShe'ssafeShe'ssafe...
From his position sprawled on the floor, Ralph pushed himself up on his arms, causing the figure who had been hovering over him with concern to spring back into the darkness. Kneeling, the fallen security guard drew a hand to his nose, shocked to find his fingers unstained when he pulled them away, though barely visible in the dimmest light afforded to him. Hadn't he been bleeding out heavily, to the extent that he had seriously questioned the integrity of what was left of his brain? Ralph adjusted his wire-framed eyeglasses, which had been knocked askew by that dreadful apparition that had focused its rage on destroying him. In his final moments, the large lenses had been beyond useless, streaked with rivulets of red as well. From his limited first-aid training, the security guard innately knew bleeding from one's eye sockets held even more dire implications.
That was beyond awful, and now it's game over. So I shut down the band before the animatronics could escape the pizzeria, but at the cost of facing down Golden Freddy and paying with my life. Shuddering, Ralph recalled collapsing to his knees, his head bowed to the apparition in a mockery of reverence. His death had been the epitome of humiliation, but his daughter was now safe and he wouldn't take it back for all the world.
Don't freak out, keep it together. Remember, I'm responsible. Whenever anything goes wrong, I'm responsible. Early in his career at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, a plastic woodgrain sign with that very message had appeared on his desk in the security office, no doubt a sarcastic gag gift from his coworkers who had sometimes bristled at his take-charge attitude. He had actually quite liked the sign's double meaning, implying everything was all his fault, until one of the pranksters had relocated it to the desk of William Afton, their acerbic and difficult boss. Ralph still wasn't sure what the implications of that were, but William could keep the sign for all he cared.
"Careful, Ralph." Bronwen Light's voice, so caring and full of admiration, was as kind and soothing as anyone could hope for. "You did good. She's safe. And I'm so sorry it had to come to this." He could vaguely see her now, crouched by his side and regarding him with unmistakable sympathy. Though the reporter's face, framed by waves of blonde hair, was a mask of hesitation, she looked just as he remembered from her ultimately failed security employment interview at Freddy's several years before. As Ralph recalled, he had been the flustered one then, mostly hiding behind his printed list of questions, furiously scrawling on a notepad and stuttering worse than he had in his own interview, back when he had barely been out of high school. He had fiercely longed for nothing more than to ask her out to dinner, though, ever the professional, he hadn't dared at the time.
"I'm...not okay," Ralph breathed, finding the affirmation strangely calming. He clearly had not made it. He wasn't in his real body, his earthly form, and wherever he had crumpled to the tiled floor of the pizzeria when weakness and blood loss overcame him, he wasn't particularly eager to see that ghastly sight. "But she is." Bronwen reached out a hand and ruffled his winged hair that stuck out from underneath his ballcap, causing a flush to spread across his face.
"You're more than okay in my book. I can't thank you enough, facing down the band the way you did to save your daughter, to save countless children besides her. The characters will remain here, where they belong, and they'll be safe as well." Bronwen frowned when Ralph flinched backward, breaking contact. Clearly physical closeness left him uncomfortable, but since coming to terms with her own demise, she was drawn to the guard who had willingly given his all to save children he would never meet. Give him time.
"Fine, no regrets, but even if I won, I lost, and once again, I'm a day late and a buck short. We both lost big-time, and what is 'here,' anyway, besides an even more depressing Freddy's, if that's even possible?" Ralph took in the sight of the pizzeria around them, darkened and hazy around the edges of his vision but otherwise identical to the only real workplace he had known. "This sure ain't Heaven," he added plaintively, silently adding, even if you look like an angel. A sudden realization overcame him and he laughed bitterly.
"Wait, that's just it. Of course I didn't make the cut. My old man was right, I could never do anything close to perfectly and if he could only see me now, he'd tell me he'd told me so." Ralph outstretched his arms and called out into the void, while behind him, Bronwen shook her head in dismay. "See, Dad, you called it! I'm far from good enough for the Pearly Gates, so here I am, stuck in this dump for eternity! Guess I had it coming, right?"
"Ralph, we're both here. I can't explain that any better than you can, but we can make the best of it, at least." Fumbling for something to appease her new ally in the afterlife, she blurted out, "At least your 'ghost suit' is kinda cute." Ralph's eyes were drawn to the threadbare fabric of his work shirt.
"This old thing?" he asked incredulously, tugging at the light blue fabric and groaning when he realized his clothing was heavily stained with filth and dust from his long journey clambering through the ceiling vents of the pizzeria. "Ugh, I hate messes, and here I am looking like I just stepped off the set of the world's stupidest game show!" He gave a sudden chuckle, his irritation dissipating. "Actually, that's rather accurate. I was crawling through a maze of vents, fighting off animatronics with a water pistol and I'm not sure what other challenges. That was one heckuva obstacle course." He patted his belt loop, amused to find the trusty water gun still in place and loaded.
"Okay, so you're a bit of a slob, but I might have a thing for guys in uniform." Bronwen smirked when Ralph's jaw dropped at this revelation, but he recovered quickly and abruptly deflected attention from himself, as he clearly had a habit of doing.
"Speaking of wardrobe choices, I've got to hand it to you, wearing a catsuit to break into Freddy's under the cover of night." He took in the form-fitting, sleek garment that hugged Bronwen's curves. "You really look the part."
"Thanks," Bronwen replied, her smirk widening at his appraisal of her over-the-top apparel. "I guess I don't do anything halfway, but if I was going to commit such a reckless act, I figured I might as well have fun with it." Her face fell. "Had the plan worked and I hadn't met with such an inglorious end at the hands of the animatronics right after breaking in through that window, I would have shut them down myself, just long enough to drain their power, and I doubt I would have fared any better than you did. So that's why I'm still incredulous you believed my messages and selflessly agreed to try again where I failed, knowing exactly where that got me. I hate that I had to draw you into this."
"Aw, Bronwen, you did everything right, and that leaves Coppelia safe." Ralph's eyes widened at the sight of the small form of a child, several years younger than his own daughter and glaring at them accusingly from her stance in the doorway. Her light hair done up in ringlets, the girl's piercing gaze wavered between himself and Bronwen.
"Uh, speaking of kids, we're being watched," the security guard said as the girl resolutely strode forward and, before he could react, relieved him of the water gun he wore on his hip in one deft motion. Facing him down and grinning slyly now, she aimed the toy weapon directly at him and Ralph raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, awed at having met one of the unsettled young spirits who haunted the pizzeria. He already suspected she could not truly harm them, at least in their latest, ethereal state.
"Susie," Bronwen reprimanded, "Ralph is on our side." In her brief time on the flipside of reality, she had already encountered the lost children who were doomed to roam the pizzeria until their souls could be freed.
"I'm not so sure about that. Your annoying boyfriend grounded us for life, making us stay here like that and now we'll never get to leave." Susie looked surprisingly fierce for a child in a purple velvet dress, her feet tucked into black patent leather Mary Jane shoes. Had she been a daytime visitor to the pizzeria, she would have been one of the children fondly described by the staff as "a real piece of work," with an attitude that matched their youthful energy.
Ralph blinked in sudden recognition. "You're...Chica, no, Susie." Why had he already known her name before Bronwen had addressed the girl, had he read it somewhere? He cursed his spotty memory, as he had done countless times before. "I'm sorry about that lousy birthday song and cupcake I unleashed on you when you had me cornered in the kitchen the other night, because you clearly didn't take that well. Geez, I'm sorry about a lot more than that. I should have known you and the others were really the lost children, but hindsight is everything, right?"
A brief hint of sadness crossed Susie's features before she spoke again. "I'm over the cupcake episode and maybe that wasn't so bad, but you also sprayed my Chica costume with this water gun the other night! That could've been the end of me!"
"Fine, I guess this makes us even," sighed Ralph when the first blast of water from the toy pistol soaked him. When Bronwen gave an involuntarily laugh at his plight, she also found herself on the receiving end of the onslaught, childish ripples of laughter echoing out in the hallway beyond.
"Ugh, how much water do those things hold?" the security guard sputtered several minutes later, regarding his drenched shirt in dismay. This night could not possibly get more absurd, he thought as Susie skipped gleefully away, clutching the empty tank of the weapon and exchanging high-fives with other vague childlike shadows in the hallway.
"They're great kids, really, once you get to meet them all. But right now, you and I need to have some 'adult alone time' to talk." Bronwen's hand was in his before he realized what was happening. "C'mon, there's a place, this room I found, where they can't go for some reason."
The so-called safe room, which had been boarded up early in Ralph's career as a training coordinator at Freddy's, was in a sorry state of disrepair in contrast to the way he had remembered it. All its fixtures, which mostly consisted of arcade cabinets that had succumbed to overheating malfunctions over the years, were coated with a thick layer of dust and mildew, but nothing was more horrific than the sight of the spring-lock animatronic who had been entombed in the space alongside the games. The rabbit-like figure stood deactivated in a corner, like a forgotten sentry guarding worthless goods, its yellow acrylic fur peeled back to reveal dry-rotted facial features.
"Spring Bonnie," Ralph said reverently, reaching out to rest a hand on the shoulder of the beloved character who had once delighted children with his cheerful dances and hearty jokes. "That was a sad day when they made me decommission you back here, especially since your servos hadn't wound down completely and you no doubt knew, in some sense, what was happening."
"That was William's suit, and Fredbear was Henry's," he explained to Bronwen, folding his lanky frame into the cockpit of a racing game and brushing strands of wet hair from his eyes. "They were my bosses, and once upon a time, everything was so happy here, before everything went wrong. It all went to seed right about the time Copper was on her way."
"That's a cute nickname, and if I may ask, you really named your daughter after an animatronic dancer from a classic ballet?" Now we're getting somewhere, talking like old friends. Bronwen clambered onto the seat next to him.
"Hey, I have a thing for unusual names, even if my own is nothing to write home about," Ralph grinned. "After your interview, I was curious about your name so I looked it up. 'Bronwen' means 'fair br-hills! Fair hills!'" The security guard clapped both hands to his face.
"It's okay, really. My mother shared your interest in off-the-wall names. So you chose Coppelia's name, I always wondered if it had been your wife's idea."
"Huh? Oh, actually I was never married," Ralph admitted. His voice lowered, he added, "or even in a relationship." The corner of his mouth twitched. "I was irresponsible once, okay?!" It had been ages since he had made the mistake of telling another person this story, so why were the words tumbling out now? "She was my best friend. We..."
"Go on." This time, he willed himself not to pull away when Bronwen draped an arm over his slumped shoulders. If they were inexplicably stuck here together in the afterlife, or whatever strange state of limbo this was, baring souls could hardly hurt.
1981
"Aw, Ralph, you're everything I could ask for in a friend," Cindy said, taking another sip from one of the six-packs they were sharing on the sofa in her apartment while a late-night movie played, mostly ignored, on the small black and white television set. "Not to mention, you actually showed up to commiserate with me, unlike my sorry date who stood me up."
"Could this count as a date, then?" Ralph asked, drawing closer to her and feeling his face positively ignite when, in answer, she took his hand and pulled him into a clumsy landing on the floor. Laughing from the effects of the drinks, they shared what would be their only night together. The next morning was beyond awkward and he knew he had made a terrible mistake.
"Please tell me this is all some joke in really bad taste," spat William Afton, glowering across his desk at the harried young security guard who had requested a meeting before the start of his shift and stammered out his predicament to his two bosses. Tenting his fingers with his elbows on the particle board of the desk, Afton scowled. "You got your coworker knocked up? This is the last thing I'd expect from you, in fact, I wouldn't have even guessed you were into girls."
"That's quite enough, Will." Beside him, Henry, the co-owner of the children's entertainment enterprise straightened on the folding chair he had pulled up to the desk. With his reticent personality and gentle manner, he seldom found it in himself to rebuke his far more bombastic business partner when he pushed things too far. Yet he despised witnessing William sadistically enjoying their young worker's humiliation, and Ralph was the very picture of dissheveled and abject misery.
"I-it's not a joke, sir." Ralph twisted the baseball cap that was part of his uniform between his hands, unable to meet Henry's face, which bore a kind but perplexed expression, let alone William's.
"You're going to be the joke of the whole town once word of this gets around," William sneered. "I call them as I see them, and your old flame has a real reputation. Please don't delude yourself into believing you're the only guy she's been with; why, the list must be a mile long and-" Afton held off when he noticed Henry's visible disapproval and subtle shake of his head, and busied himself rummaging through his desk for a bank envelope.
"Questionable judgement aside, I want to keep you both on since there are hardly fist-fights in the parking lot over either of your jobs. I'll advance you the money from your wages for her appointment-"
"What?" Ralph yelped in utter horror, wincing at the stack of bills that William had piled before him as though the man had unleashed a mass of live vipers on the desk. "That's not the reason I came here at all. You have your children, Henry has Charlotte, this might be my only chance for what I've long envied you two. I just need more hours here!"
"How clueless can you be and what kind of maniac are you? You had a one-night stand, for crying out loud! There's almost no way the kid is yours!"
"Geez, wouldn't you and my dad get along just fine," sighed Ralph, sniffling through the fractured nose that had been a parting gift from his father. "He completely disowned me and whatever else you're about to say, I'm sure I already heard it from him and then some." The past week had been a whirlwind, and besides the painful confrontation with his father, he had unceremoniously dropped out of his community college program. He would be responsible no matter what the price...
"Cindy turned down my proposal, saying she's just not ready to be a mother and I won't ever fault her for that. But when I broke down in front of her, she said 'yes' to the really important part." Ralph twisted the cheap, thin band off his ring finger. The promise ring had been part of a church program for young adults, meant to be saved, along with one's self, for one's future spouse. Guess I should stow this somewhere else since I sure screwed that one up, he thought ruefully, pocketing the jewelry.
"So I'm going to raise my child, alone. I'm living out of my car now in the parking lot, but that's temporary and on the bright side, you'll know where to find me and it'll leave me free to work all the hours you see fit to give me," he pleaded.
Sometimes he felt like protecting others was the only thing he could manage.
Henry intervened before William could protest. "Cindy's employment is secure, and I'm sure we could find extra hours for you, especially with all the college kids going back to school after Spring Break." He felt a little guilt well up when Ralph swallowed hard, no doubt ruing the fact that he was no longer among that cohort.
"Th-thank you, sir," Ralph said, feeling a flood of relief. After William stormed out in anger, Henry surprised his worker by tossing him a key.
"Please don't tell him I let you have this, but as someone who's a young parent myself, I know what it's like to struggle. There's a shower in the back from this building's previous purpose, and you're welcome to whatever leftover food is in the salad bar at the end of the night. I wish I could do more for you, but I can box up the baby clothes and gear my Charlotte's outgrown for your little one."
He flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's always rough and you're never truly ready, but I've got your back on this one and it does get better."
"...And after he lost Charlie, Henry gave me just about everything for Copper," Ralph concluded, thinking of the t-shirts emblazoned with the Freddy's characters, done up in larger sizes that Charlie, forever a toddler, would never grow up to wear and that now made up a fair portion of his daughter's wardrobe. From within their encircled arms, he felt Bronwen's hot tears on his shirt, where her face was pressed. Instead of ridiculing him for his story as everyone but Henry had, she was sympathizing, and he found her compassion touching.
"You're something wonderful, just like my mother. She had me at 17, also alone in the world, and when I came to understand what I would have to do here at Freddy's, if neither of us made it out alive, I wrote her a final letter, just in case. In my absence she'll surely take in Coppelia. They'll have each other, with us as their connection."
"So, what now? We're the caretakers of a whole crew of otherworldly kids, all of whom have a serious grudge against us right now and frankly hate our guts, and there's the issue of keeping the new guy, y'know, the replacement for my job, safe against them, when I could hardly manage that myself. That's if they can even sucker another guy into taking my place."
"Ralph...those are issues for tomorrow." Bronwen's expression was indiscernible. "Right now, we're alone at last in the one area where the children can't possibly wander in, and they're not speaking to us anyway. Besides, you may have been a little busy saving the world over the last few nights, but there's one big rule you overlooked in your security duties." Whispering into Ralph's ear, she snickered when he pulled away, madly blushing.
"That's ridiculous and why would we even have that rule in our books? Y'know, you might've broken in like a cat burglar and that was certainly a first, but we'd never do a strip search here at Freddy's. What would you even be stealing?" He clutched the collar of his uniform shirt with both hands. "Wait, you're serious?!"
"Till, uh, death do us part?" Ralph quipped, down on one knee and hesitantly slipping the simple gold wedding band onto Bronwen's finger, thrilling at her enthusiastic nod in reply. The jewelry had been a lucky find in his final week at Freddy's, and fishing in the pocket of his slacks, he found the worn and slightly tarnished silver ring that still fit his own finger and he had never found it in himself to discard. It would do, and he smiled gratefully as he slid it onto his hand.
I'm okay. We're okay. We're together. We're okay. Their lips met in a fervent kiss and then their descent to the floor was rapid.
It turned out to be beyond okay.
That did not just happen, Ralph thought dreamily, holding Bronwen against his chest as she stirred against him. He pulled his digital wristwatch before his face, peering at the backlit numerals that revealed it was three in the morning.
"Dad?"
"Bronwen?"
No. Pulling themselves to their feet in a sheer panic and hastily adjusting clothing, the new couple looked around frantically.
"We underestimated them so badly!" Ralph wailed, desperately sprinting to the hall alongside Bronwen in a frantic attempt to reach the new team, of his daughter and Bronwen's mother, before the unsettled spirits did.
How could we have been so irresponsible?
