Work Text:
“Hey mijo, how are you feeling?” Gregory’s mother softly said, placing a hand on her son’s forehead.
The six-year-old shivered and let out a strained whine, flinching under her touch. He was still burning up, and he seemed pretty worn out. He had recently caught something from one of his classmates, and now his throat hurt too much for him to talk. He was also unable to keep any food down, sometimes struggling to even drink water without it coming back up.
His mother sat down in a chair that was next to his bed. “Your papá’s getting you more medicine right now. Do you think you can take this?” She held out a bottle of childrens’ medicine. It was mostly empty, but it still had one dosage left. She poured the medicine into its small milliliter cup, as Gregory shakily sat up. She placed a hand on his back to support him, using her other hand to hold the medicine to his lips.
Gregory drank it, shuddering and gagging at the sickly sweet bubblegum flavor. He felt his mother gently rub his back, before moving her hand away so that he could lay down again. She brushed away some of the strands of hair that stuck to his face, then helped him pull his blanket closer to him.
“Is there anything you need, mijo? Do you want some water?” His mother asked.
He weakly shook his head, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Can you stay here, mamá…?” His voice was strained and quiet as he struggled to get those few words out. His mother nodded, softly running her fingers through his hair.
“Of course, I’ll be right here,” she assured him. Her warm smile was the last thing that Gregory saw before his exhaustion got the better of him, and he drifted off into a feverish slumber.
Gregory’s parents had always been kind and loving towards him. They made him feel safe and cared for, and they always looked after him when he was sick. The three of them loved each other very much, and to his very young mind, they were a perfect family.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
Which was why, Gregory supposed, he was where he was now; an orphaned 11-year-old living on the streets, with a cardboard box and some old newspapers being the only thing that he had to call home. He had lost his family at such a young age that he sometimes worried that he would forget what they looked like.
Sometimes, on the cold nights where he couldn’t sleep due to hunger and the freezing temperature, he would remember the sound of his mother’s soft humming and pretend that she was singing him to sleep. He would think of the hot chocolate and pan dulce that his father would give him during the Winter time, imagining that they were filling his stomach and keeping him warm. The memories would always lead to him crying until he was exhausted enough to drift off.
With no money or parents to keep him fed, Gregory had to rely on other means to get food. Very rarely, if he was extremely lucky, somebody kind enough would stumble upon him and offer him something to eat, which he would gladly take every time, even if he wasn’t sure if he could trust them. Those rare instances had mostly turned out fine for him, although there was that one time when a teenage boy had given him a sandwich with a razor blade in it. The boy laughed at Gregory as he accidentally cut his hand on it, but Gregory simply ran off and took the blade out from the sandwich so that he could eat the food without any issues.
Slightly more commonly, he would simply steal from people who left their food unattended, though there had been multiple instances where he had gotten caught. Sometimes he was able to get away without any trouble, other times he wasn’t so lucky and ended up getting physically harmed by the person he had stolen from. He had learned to expect that he wouldn’t be able to get out of those situations unscathed, and he had also figured out what the best strategies were for not getting caught.
The most common way for Gregory to obtain food, however, was by searching through the garbage cans that were in the alleyway he resided in. It actually wasn’t very uncommon for people to throw away food that was only half-eaten - it annoyed him how wasteful some people were, but he supposed he should be grateful for it. Even if the food was usually days old and covered in disgusting substances, it was better than not eating anything at all.
Unfortunately, Gregory’s stomach didn’t always agree with that sentiment, which was how he ended up in the position that he was currently in: curled up in his box, clutching his stomach, and trying his hardest not to vomit. Yes, the food that he had eaten earlier was moldy and covered in maggots, but he thought that he could handle eating rotten food by now. Yet, there he was, shaking like a leaf under his blanket of newspapers as he tried to ignore the worst stomach ache of his life.
His stomach groaned painfully as the contents inside of it threatened to come up his throat, but he covered his mouth and swallowed back the bile. As disgusting as it was, he refused to vomit up the only food that he had eaten in days. The harsh cold stung his skin as he hugged his knees to his chest. His face was pale, and there were tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He felt so pathetic for being unable to handle the pain - he had to be stronger than this, he couldn’t be letting a little stomach pain affect him this much if he wanted to survive on the streets.
Memories of his parents caring for him flooded his mind, and he choked back a sob. He missed his father’s warm voice and his mother’s gentle touch. He wished he was six years old again, laying in his warm bed with his mother at his side.
Gregory suddenly sat up as there was another lurch in his stomach. His eyes widened as he continued to hold his hand over his mouth.
No, no, no! Please, not now!
He couldn’t throw up, he hadn’t absorbed any nutrients from the food yet, as little as there probably were. He couldn’t lose what little sustenance he had, he needed to keep it down. Besides, he hated vomiting. That wasn’t unusual, vomiting was an unenjoyable experience for everyone, but the very thought of throwing up filled him with anxiety, which only made him feel more nauseated.
Come on, don’t be a baby! You’re not gonna puke, you’re not-
His breathing became heavier as the nausea flooded his body. A few tears started to run down his cheeks as intense pain assaulted his stomach. He let out a small whimper at the feeling, embarrassed at himself for his own weakness.
For a brief moment, it seemed like Gregory had won the war against his own body, and the nausea dissipated. However, this only lasted for a few seconds, as his eyes widened once again, and he removed his hand from his mouth, letting out a loud retch.
He gagged out the half-digested contents of his stomach, which splattered onto the ground. Some of it had ended up on the newspapers that he had covered himself with, with some of the vomit even ending up on his shirt. He immediately panicked, trying to wipe it off, before he gagged again, throwing up what little food was left in his stomach.
Gregory struggled to stand up on his shaky legs, frantically trying to use one of the newspapers to wipe the vomit off of his shirt. The vile smell made him feel sick all over again, and he was full-on crying now. He was sure that it was a pathetic sight, and he felt ashamed of himself.
He managed to successfully wipe his shirt off right before his thin legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the rough ground. His hands were shaking as he grabbed his box and dragged it away from the mess that he had made, trying to get as far away from the scent as possible. He curled up inside of the box once more, only this time, he had no newspapers to try and keep himself warm with.
In the end, despite the fact that he had gotten the spoiled food out of his system, Gregory didn’t feel much better than before. He was still absolutely freezing, he still felt weak, and he still felt incredibly nauseous. The only difference now was that his stomach was once again empty.
That night, Gregory cried himself to sleep yet again.
For a while, he had been convinced that he was destined to die alone in the streets, never to feel the warmth and comfort of a loving family ever again. Yet, it seemed as though fate had different plans.
He wasn’t sure how, but somehow, through a convoluted and frankly stressful series of events that all took place over one night, Gregory had found himself under the care of the one and only Glamrock Freddy, as well as his animatronic friends and the strange security guard that Gregory had once been afraid of.
Officer Vanessa had taken up the task of adopting the orphan boy. While the two of them lived alone together, and she was technically his only parent, considering how often he would hang out with the animatronics while Vanessa worked at the Pizzaplex, the Glamrocks were practically his parents as well. It was a strange family arrangement for sure, but it was more than the formerly homeless boy could ask for.
There were a few luxuries that came with Gregory’s adoption that would take some getting used to for him. Getting his own room to sleep in again felt odd, but he welcomed it. Having different clothes to wear instead of wearing the same cargo shorts and t-shirt every day was also something that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. But the biggest change for him was how easy it was for him to get food, now.
It was definitely concerning to both Vanessa and Freddy how quickly Gregory ate, as if he was afraid that the food would suddenly be snatched away from him at any moment. While it was worrying, it wasn’t very surprising to either of them. The boy was clearly underweight, and Freddy could tell how malnourished he was even before he had done a health scan on him for the first time. That didn’t make it any less upsetting, though.
Unbeknownst to Gregory’s main parental figures, though, was just how much of a problem his sudden change in diet would be. Vanessa thought that she had taken enough precautions, consulting with a doctor and making sure to slowly feed him more over time, until he had finally reached a point where he could actually eat a normal amount of food without the risk of getting deathly ill. However, even after the hardest part of Gregory’s recovery had passed, there was another issue that none of his guardians had anticipated.
Once he had become able to eat regular amounts of food, he had been having a lot of trouble realizing when his body wanted him to stop eating. There was a small part in the back of his mind that was convinced that he would lose access to food again at any moment, so he would always push himself to eat as much as possible, even when he got sick as a result. This was especially a problem when he hung out with Chica.
Being an animatronic that was made to promote eating, as well as a bit of an airhead who didn’t fully understand how humans worked, Chica didn’t understand that Gregory had a limit when it came to how much he could reasonably eat. What she did understand was that the boy was too thin for her liking, and that she needed to do something about it. When the two of them spent time together and he got hungry, she would bring him an entire pizza, as well as tons of the cheap snacks that were sold around the ‘Plex. She was always glad to see how happily he accepted the food, and Gregory had usually been able to ignore the impending stomach pain until he got home.
However, on one particular day, he had been dealing with some sort of stomach bug. He felt that something was off as soon as he woke up in the morning, but he figured that it would wear off as the day went on, so he went with Vanessa to work as normal. As time passed, though, the slight nausea that he had been feeling only became more apparent. Still, he tried not to pay any mind to it. He had felt worse.
He had managed to pretty much forget about his illness when he went into Chica’s greenroom - he had been curious about how she played the guitar so well, so she had offered to teach him. The impromptu lesson went pretty well, and the two of them had been having a lot of fun together. However, at some point during their hangout, Gregory’s stomach suddenly growled, reminding him that he had not eaten in a while.
“Sorry…” he said to Chica, turning away in embarrassment.
“Oh, no worries!” She energetically replied, quickly standing up. “Wait right here!”
Gregory nodded, watching the animatronic exit her room, full of energy. As he quietly waited for her, he became acutely aware of the pain that was building up in his stomach, and he couldn’t tell if it was from hunger or sickness. Either way, he figured that he could just ignore it.
As usual, Chica seemingly returned in mere seconds with food, happily handing it to her kid before sitting across from him and excitedly rambling on about her day as he ate. Gregory intently listened as he took a bite out of his pizza, watching her surprisingly dynamic facial expressions as she continued her story.
At some point during her ramblings, it became harder for him to ignore the obvious nausea that he was feeling. There was a familiar sour taste building up in the back of his throat, but he didn’t stop eating. He didn’t want to be impolite, and besides, he still felt hungry.
However, as the abdominal pain became harder and harder to dismiss, Chica’s voice began to sound like white noise to Gregory, as it was difficult for him to not focus on how sick he was feeling. He took a bite out of a candy bar that she had given him, the sugary taste that he usually enjoyed now only making him feel more ill. No matter how sick he was feeling, he was determined to finish all of the food that he had in front of him.
He was especially determined not to throw up.
It was unfortunately a losing battle, and as Chica continued her one-sided conversation, Gregory’s eyes suddenly shot open, and he quickly got up and ran over to the door to her room. He was in such a rush to get out that he was struggling to open said door, and the shakiness of his hands wasn’t helping.
“Gregory-? Is everything okay?” Chica asked, opening the door for him.
Her question went unanswered, as he rushed out of her room and ran in the direction of the nearest restroom. She followed him into the men’s room, something that she would not have normally done, but seeing as it was after hours and Gregory and Vanessa were currently the only humans at the Pizzaplex, she saw no issue with it. Whatever was happening seemed much more dire than simply needing to use the bathroom, and she wanted to be there to help her kid if he needed it.
While Chica was pretty sure that Gregory wasn’t in the bathroom for any of the obvious reasons, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect when she followed him in. What she certainly did not expect was to hear him sobbing and gagging in one of the stalls.
“Gregory-?” She gently knocked on the stall, not wanting to startle him. “Are you okay-?”
She heard more sobbing, which grew rapid as the boy struggled to catch his breath. Finally, after the gagging and hyperventilating sounds ceased for a moment, she heard a weak reply:
“N-No…”
The single word response was followed by more crying, and what sounded like more vomiting. Chica knew what she had to do.
Gregory was unsure how long he had been in that stall, knelt over the toilet as his sickness finally took its toll on him, but it felt like an eternity. He was unable to stop crying as he continued throwing up, the wretched smell and taste in his mouth only making him more distressed. The cold, hard tiles on the floor made him shiver as his knees became sore. He was starting to regret not staying home.
There was suddenly a knock at the stall door, which he could only assume was Chica. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for being unable to finish the food that she had brought him, especially when the food that he had eaten had been unable to stay in his stomach for long. He knew that he had probably hurt her feelings, which made him feel even more awful than the nausea did.
“I-I’m s-sorry…” he said, in between shallow breaths.
“There is nothing to be sorry about, Superstar. Would it be any trouble for you to open the door?”
The warm voice did not belong to Chica, but it was a voice that Gregory would have recognized anywhere.
He feebly stood up, opening the door and being greeted by Freddy standing in front of the stall, along with Vanessa and Chica close behind him. For some reason, seeing the three of them made Gregory break down crying once again. Freddy stepped forward and offered a hug, to which Gregory immediately went into his arms, sobbing into them.
“Chica, you can’t be giving him so much food!” Vanessa exclaimed, turning to the animatronic chicken.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” Chica responded, bowing her head in shame.
Vanessa sighed, putting a hand on Chica’s shoulder. “Look, I understand that you wanna look after him, but he can’t handle the same things that you guys can, especially not in this state,” she explained, her tone a bit gentler. “I know you didn’t mean to make him sick, but he can’t eat that much.”
“Officer Vanessa is right, although I do not think it was only the food that is making Gregory ill,” Freddy spoke up, still holding the boy close. “His temperature is rather high, and my scan of him shows that he is suffering from a stomach virus.”
“What-?” Vanessa grew more concerned, and she peered around Freddy to get a better look at their child. “Gregory, how long were you feeling sick for?” She asked.
“S-Since this morning…” he admitted, staring at the floor.
“What-?” Vanessa repeated, before bending down to match his height. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Gregory’s sobs intensified, and he gripped at Freddy’s arm as he spoke: “I-I didn’t feel that b-bad earlier, so I th-thought it’d be f-fine, b-because I-I’m used to f-feeling sick, s-so…” He was unable to finish his sentence, as his words became full-on cries, and not for the first time in his life did he feel weak and pathetic.
“Gregory, we understand that you have grown used to needing to fend for yourself, but you do not need to do that anymore,” Freddy said, his voice soft and comforting. “Chica, Officer Vanessa, and I, as well as the other animatronics, are here to care for you when you need it.”
Vanessa held her hand out, waiting to see if Gregory was okay with being touched. When the boy leaned into her hand, she gently ran her fingers through his hair, her touch soft and loving.
“Freddy’s right, kid,” she said, brushing Gregory’s hair away from his eyes. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and having people who look after you probably feels weird, but you shouldn’t force yourself to deal with stuff like this on your own.”
“Yeah! We’re here to help!” Chica piped up. “Don’t be shy to tell us when you don’t feel well! We’re happy to take care of you! Even if some of us may not fully understand how to, yet…”
She said her last sentence a bit quieter, but made sure that it was still audible to the other three. “I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I should have known better…”
“Don't apologize, I’m the one who should be sorry…” Gregory replied. “I mean, you went through all the trouble of getting food for me, but now half of it’s in the toilet…”
“You don’t have to be sorry about that!” Chica insisted. “Really, I’m the one who needs to apologize here, Gregory!”
“Neither of you need to apologize,” Freddy said. “You were both simply trying to be nice to one another, and as I mentioned earlier, Gregory had already been sick, so this was not entirely your fault, Chica.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” Chica responded. “But anyways, I promise I’ll do better next time! I’m gonna do lots of research so that I know exactly how to look after you, Gregory!”
Gregory giggled as she gently poked his cheek. “Sounds good to me!”
“I’d be happy to show you some of the information that I have downloaded to my database,” Freddy stated, turning to his bandmate.
“Ooh, that’d be great!” Chica excitedly jumped up and down. “Thanks, Freddy!”
“Of course!”
Vanessa stood back up. “Alright, ready to go home, Gregory?” She asked.
“Mm… Five more minutes,” he softly whined, sinking into Freddy’s warm body.
His human parent sighed. “Freddy, can you help me out here?” She turned to the bear with pleading eyes.
“Well, if he only wants five more minutes…” Freddy reasoned.
Vanessa rolled her eyes - she really had to teach him about when it was necessary to be strict with their kid. “Gregory, if you throw up on Freddy, he’s gonna have to be taken into maintenance to be cleaned up, and then you won’t be able to see him for at least a full day.”
“Fine,” Gregory groaned, wriggling out of his robotic parent’s arms. Vanessa held out her hand to the boy, which he reluctantly took. On the one hand, it always felt embarrassing to him whenever the two held hands. He was 11, for crying out loud! He was old enough to walk around without needing to hold anybody’s hand.
Although, on the other hand, he understood that Vanessa was concerned about him wandering off and getting lost in the huge Pizzaplex. Mainly because that admittedly was exactly the type of thing that he would do.
As the two of them exited the bathroom and made their way out of the building, Vanessa had the fleeting thought that things would be easier if Gregory was smaller, since she would be able to simply carry him out of the mall. As short and slim as the child was, he was still a bit too big for her to pick up. Besides, it wouldn’t make any sense for her to be carrying him - that was the type of thing that a mother would do. Sure, she legally was his mother, but she had no idea how he actually saw their relationship, and she didn’t want to make things awkward between them. It was already awkward enough having to look after the boy that you had unwittingly tried to murder, after all.
Exhaustion hit Gregory like a truck the moment that he stepped into Vanessa’s home. (Well, technically their home, but that still felt odd for him to think about.) He immediately headed into his room and flopped onto his bed, falling asleep without even changing into his pajamas.
Later that night, when Vanessa had also fallen asleep, she was suddenly woken up by some noises coming from Gregory’s room. She groggily got out of bed and headed to the other bedroom, yawning as she opened the door.
“Something wrong-?” She asked, stepping into the doorway. Her question was answered by the sight before her - Gregory was sitting up in his bed, softly crying. His blanket, Glamrock Freddy plush, and the front of his shirt had been splattered with vomit.
“Oh, kiddo…” Vanessa’s voice was soft as she rushed to his side, wiping some tears from his cheeks. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”
She continued gently wiping tears from her child’s face as he continued to cry. He whimpered as he clutched the dirty plushie, clearly worried that it had been ruined.
“It’s okay, we can clean this,” Vanessa assured him, as he allowed her to take the stuffed animal. “Do you think you can get up?”
Gregory nodded, weakly getting out of his bed. Vanessa allowed him to lean on her to support his shivering body, as she grabbed his blanket off of his bed. “You might feel better if you take a bath,” she said. “Here, I’ll get you your pajamas, then I’ll go turn on the tub for you, okay?”
True to her word, Vanessa had filled the tub with warm water, telling Gregory to leave his old clothes outside of the bathroom so that she could wash them with his blanket. He did so, before slowly getting into the tub, the water warming up his cold skin.
As he scrubbed at his hair with some of Vanessa’s shampoo, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much she seemed to care about him. He knew that she, as well as the animatronics, were there to look after him - that had become especially clear to him that day. Still, it had been so long since he had had loving guardians, he still wasn’t exactly used to it.
After he was finished washing himself, he stayed in the tub until the water cooled down, before draining it and drying himself off with a towel. He changed into his pajamas and exited the bathroom, finding Vanessa pulling his blanket out of the dryer.
“Hey,” she greeted him. “Your stuff’s clean now. If you wanna go wait in your room, I can bring it to you.”
Gregory looked at his now clean Freddy plushie, which was sitting on top of the dryer. He grabbed it, examining it to see if there was any damage, before giving Vanessa a thumbs up and heading over to his bedroom.
After waiting in his bed for a little bit, he saw Vanessa enter his room carrying his blanket, some medicine, and a glass of water.
“Man, I hate that stuff!” He whined, as she tossed the blanket (which had also had his old clothes bundled inside of it) onto his bed.
“Same, but hey, it’ll help you feel better,” she shrugged, placing the water and medicine on the bedside table, before grabbing his now clean clothes and putting them away.
“Can’t I just sleep it off? That’s how I dealt with these things before.”
Vanessa sighed, her warm green eyes meeting his. “Kiddo, we talked about this. You don’t have to do things that way, anymore.”
Her face was so gentle and comforting; Gregory didn’t know how to react, so he instinctively looked away from her. Neither of them spoke for a few moments.
“Okay, I’ll take it…” he said, breaking the silence.
“Thank you,” Vanessa ruffled his hair, before measuring out the correct dosage of the medicine and holding it out. “Do you need help taking it?”
He shook his head, taking the medicine from her and drinking it as fast as possible. The artificial flavor that was apparently supposed to be cherry made him audibly cringe, so she handed him the glass of water, which he quickly drank from.
“Jeez, slow down,” Vanessa said, taking the cup from him. “I’m way too tired to help you clean up if you puke again,” she joked.
“It tastes so bad though!” Gregory complained.
“Well, you won’t have to take any more for now, don’t worry,” she began petting his head again. “Your hair’s pretty soft.”
“You’re gonna mess it up,” he whined, leaning into her hand anyway.
“For someone who’s worried about me messing it up, you don’t seem to want me to stop,” Vanessa teased.
Gregory simply pouted in response, unable to even pretend to be mad about it. As embarrassing as it was for him to admit, the touch-starved boy enjoyed moments of physical affection such as these. While Vanessa’s hands didn’t have the same artificial warmth that he loved about Freddy, her touch was always so gentle and comforting.
Her hands are so soft… Gregory thought to himself.
I’d probably die of embarrassment if she knew this, but it feels really nice when she does stuff like this…
“Kinda reminds me of mamá…”
“What was that?” Vanessa asked.
“Nothing-!” Gregory jerked away from her, realizing that he had accidentally thought out loud.
“You sure-?”
“Don’t worry about it!” He insisted. “I’m going to bed!”
He promptly laid his head down on his pillow and pulled his blanket over himself, mostly so that she couldn’t see his embarrassed face. He heard her giggle a bit, which made the blush on his face deepen.
“Alright, I’ll head back to my room,” Vanessa replied.
“Sleep tight, kid. Lemme know if you need anything,” she said, as she walked out the door.
“Night…!” Gregory replied, his voice a bit muffled from under his blanket.
As Vanessa went into her bedroom, she decided that she wouldn’t mention his little slip-up unless he brought it up. She didn’t want to further embarrass him, especially when he was still adjusting to living with her.
Besides, if he really saw her as a mother figure, she didn’t mind.
He was her kid, after all, so it only made sense that she would be his mother.