have you got colour in your cheeks?

do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the tide

that sticks around like summat in your teeth?

Arctic Monkeys
Do I Wanna Know?

•••••

Tw: implied death, abusive household/parent, gore

Artist: Deathicus-Sling

Artist: Salix

••• twenty-three years ago •••

  Sometimes, Evan Afton felt as though he were being watched. He didn't know why, of course - he was only eight. He didn't even know what the feeling he felt was, only aware of the prickling sensation on the back of his neck and the bad feelings pooling in the bottom of his stomach. When the feelings came, he'd hug his Fredbear plush tighter and wait for it to pass.

  Sometimes it only took minutes for him to calm. Other times, it took hours for his heart to return to its normal pace, for the voyeuristic, paranoid sensations to settle down. Those were the worser days, when his tears came in waves even though he knew what would happen if Michael or their father caught him.

  It was worse since Elizabeth went away. He didn't know when she left, only that she went into work with dad one day and didn't come home. Dad and mom had a bad fight that night, and despite their differences, Michael had let Evan crawl into bed with him to wait out the storm.

  Then, like Lizzy, mom left. She didn't return either. Within the span of a mere few weeks, the Afton household had reduced its numbers to just William and his two sons.

  Maliciousness grew like mould, and Michael was an unfortunate sponge.

  Evan watched as eleven-year-old Michael followed after their father; their father that yelled and cursed and hit Evan when he cried. "Bad things happen when you cry," William would say, as if it brand it into his son's psyche, and then Michael would watch while their father pulled Evan by his arm to his room and locked the door.

  William would tuck the keys into his pocket and point a finger to Michael. He'd always flinch without fail. "Don't you ever fucking cry, hear me?"

  Michael could do nothing but nod. "Yes, sir."

  Sometimes he slipped cookies under the crack of the door when the hours grew long. Evan would nibble on them while they grew wet and salty from his tears, and his beloved Fredbear plush would watch him from the bed.

  In a house like that, viciousness was inherited and encouraged. William had already lost one child to his own animatronics and knew Evan shared the same fascination his elder sister had. Michael was his puppet, manipulated and egged on, his father's avatar to spit cruel words and pranks in a Foxy mask. Anything to keep Evan away from the animatronics. Anything to keep him afraid.

  He should've known it would've never have worked. Children didn't know limits. Children needed to be showed where the lines not to cross were, but William had failed in doing so, and killed his youngest because of his negligence.

  It happened on Evan's birthday. William decided to have it at his workplace - save money, ignite more fear. Fredbear's Family Diner had always been a popular birthday spot, after all. Children loved it there, loved to interact with the actors inside the springlocked suits of Fredbear and Bonnie - everyone except Evan, who spent his birthday cowering under a table with his Fredbear plush and the prickling sensation at the back of his neck.

  "There you are."

  Evan's sobs hitched when Michael's Foxy-masked face appeared beneath the table, pulled into a smile. He grabbed Evan's arm the way his father would, the way he thought was normal, and pulled him out despite his protests.

  "You're missing your own party!"

  "Pl- please! Please, stop!" Evan sobbed as he was dragged out from under the table. Three of Michael's friends watched him, each wearing the mask of an animatronic that hadn't been built yet.

  "Wow," said the one in a Chica mask. "Your brother's kind of a baby, isn't he?"

  "Nice toy, kid," said purple-faced Bonnie. Evan wept and clutched Fredbear tighter. "Wanna see the real thing?"

  "Why don't we help him get a closer look?" Michael agreed, hoisting Evan up to his feet and keeping his hands locked on his shoulders. "He'll love it."

  "No!" Evan cried, struggling in Michael's hold. He caught his father's eyes across the party room and cried louder when he turned away. "No!" 

  "Come on, guys, let's give this little man a lift," Michael goaded, much to his younger brother's horror. "He wants to get up close and personal!"

  The Fredbear plush slipped from Evan's fingers as his little body was hoisted in the arms of the older kids. He flailed, kicking up a fuss while weeping, trying with all his might to escape the hands carrying him towards the stage where two yellow animatronics performed their same set.

  "No! I don't wanna go!"

  "You heard the little man!" Michael laughed to his snickering friends. "He wants to get even closer!"

  Evan could barely breathe through his sobs as he watched the jolting, mechanical movements of Fredbear get closer. He wanted to go back home. He wanted his mom. He wanted his sister.

  "Da-a-d," Evan pitifully wailed in a last ditch effort of receiving help, but his father had left the room, and the other kids did nothing but watch.

  Fredbear loomed before him, still taller and imposing despite his elevated height. Evan tried to kick back from the animatronic with a watery, terrified squeal, but his strength had nothing on the four cackling eleven-year-olds.

  "Hey guys, I think the little man said he wants to give Fredbear a big kiss," Michael said while he and his friends laughed. They prepared to lift him, and Evan felt his terror reach exponential heights. "On three! One... two..."

  Michael and his friends lifted Evan towards the creaking, sawing maw of the singing Fredbear, bringing him face-to-face. The animatronic's head turned from side-to-side in sharp motions, and on his next head-turn, his upper jaw caught the top of Evan's head.

  To everyone watching, to the children observing and the kids lifting little Evan Afton up, it happened in the blink of an eye. One second he was crying at the top of the lungs, and the next he was eerily silent, twitching in the jaws of the massive, metal beast while blood poured from between his teeth, still singing, still turning his head.

  To little Evan Afton, it happened in an eternity.

  As the top jaw of Fredbear caught the scalp of Evan's head, he was knocked forward, propelled into the bottom jaw of the bear. His fear heightened with a yelp, cries echoing in the small, dark chamber of Fredbear's mouth. Evan never did like the dark.

  The jaw shut hard, crunching against skull and bones, ripping through flesh and spilling blood between his joints and teeth and down his golden, metal shell. The pain was so intense that there really were no words to describe it, and Evan's cries died in his gurgling throat while he spasmed.

  Michael watched in silent horror as the body of his younger brother swung obscenely from the still-moving animatronic. Blood poured in a steady stream onto the stage, coating his hands from where he loosely held Evan's side. One of his friends screamed and stumbled back from the scene and then the others followed, but Michael remained there, holding onto his brother, staring at Evan's crushed head in shock. Still breathing, but only barely.

  Evan didn't open his eyes again.

•••••

  Gregory blinked back the brightness of consciousness with a grimace. He was suddenly reminded of the first time he woke on a dusty old table in that abandoned basement, and a gasp struggled through him. Only when he saw the various computer screens around him did he calm.

  He wasn't back there. He wasn't alone.

  ... except he was alone. He'd stepped in front of a staff bot and triggered the system's security alarm. He was caught, and the security guard had appeared with a crowbar in hand and-

  Gregory closed his eyes tightly. His throat still felt raw after screaming at the sight of Y/n being beaten bloody. The guard had sobbed the entire time but that didn't stop her swinging. Again, and again, two cracks of metal upon skull, and blood seeped through Y/n's hair and dripped from the weapon.

  He killed her. Gregory was convinced. He didn't know how exactly death worked, but he was sure that Y/n's unmoving body was lifeless in a way that couldn't save him, now. Gregory felt the familiar, terrifying sting of tears behind his eyes and closed them tighter.

  'Crying is not a bad thing. Crying is just when... emotions get too much for our bodies to handle. Like when you're so scared that it's overwhelming, or when you're so happy that you can't contain it.'

  Y/n's words echoed through his head. What would be the last thing he said to her? He could barely remember - was it him being rude? Was it him ignoring her? If he'd just stayed by her side, if he'd just listened, she wouldn't be- wouldn't be...

  Gregory sniffled. He needed to find Freddy and get out of this crazy place. He needed to tell Freddy what happened. Maybe he'd go back for her body. All deaths deserved a proper burial, right? Otherwise her ghost would wander, be restless, or stuck in a white, endless limbo for years.

  He didn't know why he knew limbo existed.

  Gregory had to get out of this nightmare. He lifted his watch. "Freddy? Freddy, are you there? I'm trapped."

  No answer. Gregory dropped his hand with a stifled groan. Why wasn't Freddy responding? Did it have something to do with the faint humming in the air? Where could Freddy be, if not searching for him or Y/n?

  Gregory's blood ran cold when he imagined Freddy finding his manager in the state he last saw her in. Would Freddy blame him, too?

  The screens in the security office Gregory woke up in suddenly flickered, glitching purple across the glass. He jumped when a loud screech split through the speakers before settling into a voice that made his spine cold with terror. It was the guard's, but this time it sounded... different.

  "I'll bet you think you're real clever, Gregory. Yeah, I know your name. You're in big trouble!" her voice spat. Her green eyes held only pinpricks for irises, and her gaze was so sharp that it cut. "This is not the night to be wasting my time! So you're going to wait right there in Lost and Found until your parents or the police arrive."

  Gregory leapt to his feet and began toward the door. He wasn't sure how he exactly got knocked out, but the guard definitely had the other Glamrocks under her thumb, if Roxy's bruising grip and easy compliance towards the security guard was anything to go by. He tried the door but it had, of course, been locked.

  "You hurt Y/n," Gregory said, voice wet with tears and hot with anger. The constant low hum of the room stoked his anxiety higher than normal. "You hurt her!"

  Yes, sometimes Y/n and he clashed or he'd think that her ideas were complete insanity, but she had shown him more compassion in the past handful of hours than all the adults outside the 'Plex had combined. She saw his ratty appearance and didn't look away. She cared about him. The only other people who cared about him was Kerin, Stick the cat and Freddy.

  They were meant to get out of here. They were meant to get chicken nuggets together. She was going to get to see the sun again, like every other day when her life wasn't cut short by a stubborn homeless boy with splotchy memories.

  The screens flickered again, and then glitched, and then a white rabbit suit peered at him through the console. Her red eyes were eerie and looked the colour of spilt blood - Y/n's blood.

  "Are you having fun yet?"

  The voice was distorted, as if being put through three different audio editors at once and then trying to be mushed together, or as though she was speaking through a decrepit fan. Gregory spotted a screwdriver on the desk and grabbed it. The white rabbit lady had begun to descend down the stairs towards the office in a merry skip. He could see her approach through the office's window.

  Gregory sent one last more desperate glance over the room before his eyes landed on an air vent. He took to it immediately, trying to unscrew the screws before giving up and wedging the head of the screwdriver in the lip of the metal, bending it away from the wall. Once the gap was big enough, he slipped inside and into (relative) safety, barely escaping the rabbit's clutches.

  Gregory sighed with relief as soon as he turned a corner in the vents, out of sight of the furious bunny. He tapped on his Faz-Watch again and, now that the humming within the office had died down, it seemed to work perfectly fine.

  "Freddy?"

  "Gregory!" Freddy's reply was instantaneous, and Gregory almost wanted to weep with relief. "Where are you? I cannot locate you or Y/n!"

  Guilt struck Gregory's little body with a knockout, lethal blow. His throat grew tight. He crawled a little slower. "I- I'm in the vents. I'll try to find where I am when I get out."

  "Okay." Freddy's voice was pitched with a worry that made Gregory's apprehension skyrocket. How was he supposed to tell Freddy about Y/n? They were obviously close (sickeningly close, in Gregory's humble opinion). He was going to be heartbroken - or, at least, the robot equivalent. "Do you know where Y/n is?"

  Gregory's thick throat became audible in his voice. "I- I last saw her by the prize counter. Roxy got me and... and I think the security guard hurt Y/n really bad."

  Freddy's ensuing silence made Gregory's stomach churn. He'd never felt more upset in that moment, and Freddy's forlorn muteness made it so much worse. Does he hate him, now?

  A clacking sound behind Gregory made a chill crawl up his spine. He looked over his shoulder and spotted the teeny version of Music Man staring back at him with soulless black eyes, big and bug-like. It smacked its cymbals once, twice, and the sound echoed in the vents like a thunderclap. 

  Just his luck.

  "I don't suppose you're friendly?" Gregory whimpered.

•••••

  "Ah, fuck." I leant against the wall beside the room I'd escaped from, panting for breath and fingers clinging loosely to my crowbar. Three staff bots twitched on the ground before me. "I should've worn my Fitbit."

  I lifted my chin to the ceiling as I gulped for air. My entire body ached, muscles trembling without reprieve. I felt as though I'd just ran five marathons in a row and was any second away from collapsing; my vision was still double. My mouth tasted like blood.

  Pulling myself from the wall, I hissed through my teeth at the sharp whip of pain from my back. Somehow my head injury made my other injury from where Moon had thrown me feel a hundred times worse. The upcoming medical bill if I got out of here hurt even more than that.

  I staggered down the hallway, blinking slow and sluggishly. Stealth was my only option at this point, energy depleted after taking on three staff bots. Either they were stupidly weak or I'd been imbued with superhuman adrenaline because they hadn't given me too much trouble. The crowbar was a trusty weapon.

  My Faz-Watch was missing. Either William and his little puppet (because I was convinced that was what Vanessa was, now) didn't want Michael to find me or they didn't want me to find him after risking my escape. Actually - where was Vanessa? She must've thrown me into that storage closet and dipped, leaving me to deal with William's assholery alone. Maybe she was with Gregory.

  The thought made me nauseas. What was she doing to him? Was he okay? The kid was crafty and strong as hell, surely he managed to escape? Though, from Roxy... my hopes diminished somewhat.

   I could feel William in the trudges of my mind, clinging on like a flea. I hoped he found my sickest desires and darkest thoughts, because most of them involved him and a slow, vicious death. I hoped he was peeing in his little ghosty pants. He probably wasn't, but I preferred the thought. It gave me the strength to limp onwards.

  Where am I? Between the bodily aches that made my brain blackout every few seconds and the double-vision, I may as well have been stranded in Africa. The hallways before me stretched on and on, indiscernible and too similar to one another. I was going to walk myself into unconsciousness before I found my way out.

  It was getting harder to breathe. I clawed for air with each struggling step and stumbled against the wall, dragging myself along it just to keep upright. My fingers clutched stubbornly to the crowbar. Sounds around me made me jumpy. Another brush with staff bots - or heaven forbid, a Glamrock - and I knew I wasn't going to make it. I could hear one behind me, footsteps loud and echoey in the maintenance tunnels, as though taunting me.

  Something red and large caught my attention, swimming before me like a beacon in the dark. I tried to focus on it but that just made my vision swim more, so I continued slowly forth until I touched upon it. A charging chamber. A dull sense of tired relief pressed against my chest as I hooked my fingers into the ledge of its doors and hauled it open with a grunt. I clambered inside and slid down to the floor with a shaky sigh.

  I'd just get a rest while whoever it was behind me passed. A quick nap. I'd wake up soon and either the nightmare would be over or it wouldn't, but I'd be rested and then I would use that energy to find Gregory. I could faintly feel William's amusement. I imagined punching his face until it was unrecognisable and bloody and felt his amusement simmer away into disgruntlement.

  I weakly smirked. Prick.

  Maybe Michael found Gregory first. Maybe they were both okay and were hunkering down, like me. I'd prefer it if they were, hiding in a small safe spot until morning come and the pizzaplex staff could somehow stop this chaos, even just temporary. Enough for Gregory to escape and for Freddy to be carted away to safety. The best outcome, right?

  Maybe they'd find me here, huddled in a charging station with a death grip around a crowbar that was stained with my own blood. Maybe I'd be dead. Maybe I'd never open my eyes again. Maybe my soul would somehow find its way back to Michael - that's what seemed to happen, right? Drawn together like magnets. Even death couldn't keep us from finding one another.

  My smile was faint. God, I love Michael. He was a dumbass and an idiot and I still hadn't quite forgiven him for leaving me like he did nine years ago, but fuck. My love for him was insurmountable and I clung to that feeling instead of the fear circling in my head. I hoped my soul found his. I hoped Gregory found him, too.

  The heavy footsteps grew closer. I wondered who it was; Chica? Monty? I wondered if they had any of their memories at all, locked away behind a firewall of sorts. Maybe they'd been completely erased. Wouldn't that suck? Wouldn't that be awful? I wondered if they knew who I was while they killed me.

  The footsteps stopped outside the chamber. I heard the doors slide open, and I almost found myself welcoming death with open arms. At least then it wouldn't hurt like this. At least I'd get a rest.

  "Y/n," I heard Freddy's voice whisper in disbelief, in pain. A heavy thud startled my heart. "Oh, Y/n." Slow fingers reached for me, for my pulse at my neck, and I managed to push the hand away with a groan.

  "I'm not dead," I muttered, peeling my eyes open with effort to find him kneeling before me in great grief. Freddy's hand recoiled back to his chest and he stared at me owlishly, blue eyes shocked before being overwhelmed with relief. His shoulders slumped and he leant forward, resting his head against the side of the charging chamber.

  "You looked dead," Michael whimpered.

  "You really know how to compliment a girl," I said dryly. I looked him up and down, struggling through my double-vision. "You look awful, too."

  Romance.

  Freddy's body was covered in grit and dirt and the usual vibrant glow to his eyes had dimmed to half the brightness. Parts of him were dented and in desperate need of repair. He sent me a smile - not a dry one, not a sarcastic one in wake of my comment, but one of relief and love. Despite the aching of my head, I smiled back.

  Freddy reached forward and carefully helped me to my feet. "Let's find you a first-aid station."

  I shook my head before regretting the action and grimacing at how the world wobbled. We waited a few breaths for my body to settle. "We can't- we need to get Gregory." My blurry gaze drifted up to his face. "I lost him, Mike. I couldn't protect him. What if he's..." I couldn't bring myself to say the word. "... gone?"

  Freddy hushed my worry and gently pressed his muzzle to my forehead. "I spoke to him just a few moments ago. My communication signal has been compromised but we will meet him at Roxy Raceway."

  I sluggishly raised my hand to grasp at his wrist. "Did he sound alright?"

  "Shaken, but spirited."

  I managed a wobbly grin. "That's Gregroy."

  Freddy pulled back. "We must continue. I tried to search lower levels for the two of you and endos are not far behind me."

  A cool wash of fresh terror submerged me whole. "Endos?"

  Freddy carefully scooped me into his arms before my fear could lock my legs in place and began to limp us through the dark hallways. "I will keep you safe, just as I did before." He looked over my clotted head wound and gave a troubled frown. "Do you have a concussion?"

  "Oh, for sure."

  His frown deepened. "If only Sundrop was not so... displeased with us. He's trained to handle concussions." He gave a weary sigh. "Is there anything else?"

  "Yeah." I shifted uncomfortably in his arms, cradled the crowbar like a baby. I gripped its steel neck with clammy palms. "... William's here."

  Michael's stride faltered. His head snapped down to look at me, gaze dark and intense. "What."

  I pushed back a shiver at his tone. "It's William. We were right the first time. I think he possessed Vanessa, like a virus."

  "Possessed?" Michael echoed. His face was haunted, gaunt as much as a robot's face could be. "How do you know that she isn't just a crazy follower?"

  "Because she did this to me." I pointed at my head, and his expression turned murderous. "She cried while doing it. She didn't want to, and..." I swallowed, throat raspy and dry. "And I know because when I woke up, I saw him."

  Michael had stopped walking, instead staring at me as though I were telling a terrifying ghost story. In a way I was, I suppose. Except it wasn't just a story, and William was more than just a ghost.

  "You saw him?" Michael said hollowly.

  I nodded slowly. I had only heard the horrors and the stories through Michael and Henry of William Afton after his death, of him haunting a corpse within a golden bunny suit. Yes, he looked different, but a deranged soul like that was unmistakable. I'd never seen William before, and the shock still cling to me like vapour. Michael could see it on my face.

  "What did he do to you?" he all but whispered.

  "He's in my head," I said weakly. "He's infected me, too."

  Michael's grip on me tightened until it almost hurt. I heard his artificial breath pick up before he closed his eyes and forced himself to settle. His jaw stuck out, gritted with displeasure and hate and horror.

  I watched his face cycle through these emotions and lacked the energy to comfort him. I wanted to reassure him, say that things would be okay, but that would be lying. Things were clearly not okay. His manic dad's ghost was in my head, circling like a hawk. I could feel his claws digging into the edge of my psyche, watching every turn. William was preparing himself for something but I had no clue what.

  "I'm sorry," Michael whispered. He brushed his jaw atop my head, just a whisper of a touch. "I'm so sorry."

  "It's not your fault," I murmured. "I'm the one who took a job here, remember? Besides, everyone hates their in-laws."

  The joke spectacularly failed to land. Michael didn't react to it, eyes still closed with guilt. I wished Joey was here - he always knew how to lighten the mood. Though this mood might be a bit too tough, even for him.

  "We'll get him out," Michael vowed. His voice was quiet but laden with promise and vengeance. "I won't rest until he's gone."

  I couldn't see how we would succeed when we spent years trying to end him in the first place, but I didn't voice my fears. Michael was probably already thinking along the same lines as me.

  "You need patching up," Michael decided, changing the topic on its head. I nodded silently, and stayed silent while he located the closest first-aid station.

  Once in, I used some tissues to quickly wipe away most of the dried blood from around my head wound, before hissing when I rubbed antibacterial cream onto it. Michael watched, helpless with his too-large fingers, as I clumsily wrapped my head and knotted the ends, before finally popping as many painkillers as I dared. I had to swallow them dry which was never pleasant.

  There weren't enough tissues to clean the lines of dried blood that ran down my face but a little itchiness never hurt anybody. I grabbed my crowbar again (which I think I was growing worriedly attached to) and returned to Michael with a tired sigh.

  "Have you heard from Gregory yet?" I asked.

  "No." Michael's worry was palpable. "We should keep moving. I'll need to charge soon, too."

  "Your battery's still playing up?" He was in need of full-body maintenance from the looks of things. The situation was grim.

  "I fear the virus is making it worse," he said solemnly. He sent a small smile at my worried frown. "But we will find a way to remove that, too."

  "Yeah..." Call me a pessimist, but I wasn't convinced at all.

  We continued down the hallway for a few more minutes, avoiding security bots when we needed. We opened out onto Roxy Raceway just as Freddy's leg gave out.

  I barely had energy to gasp as he crumpled to the floor beside a few large crates. My reaction was slow, latent from exhaustion, and when my heart finally kicked into double gear in response to the robot sprawled on the floor before me, I reached for his arms with a whispered cry of his name.

  "Are you okay?" I stressed. "What happened?"

  Freddy's face looked bewildered at his position on the floor. He stared at me with wide eyes. "I- I think some-something is wrong."

  I adjusted myself to kneel on his lap. "No kidding, Sherlock." My eyes scanned him frantically. "Is there anything I can do?"

  He shook his head, though it stopped short. "My- my battery. It dr- drained."

  "That quickly?" I helplessly asked.

  "V- virus," he concluded. The lights in his eyes flickered with the reserves of his energy and I looked around for the closest charging chamber. There wasn't any that I could see. "Y/n- don't go. Gregory is- is coming. He needs you."

  "I'll stay," I said. "I'll stay."

  "Need- need to go to P- Parts and Services," Michael added. His dimming eyes remained firmly on me and I nodded quickly.

  We both flinched when a vent beside us crashed open and out rolled Gregory, scampering away from it with wide eyes. My relief at seeing him was short lived when Music Man's mini me crawled out after him, attention locked on and intent on hurting him. I leapt to my feet fast enough to make my head swim and I staggered beneath it.

  "G- Gregory!" Freddy called before he could run too far and disappear again. Gregory's head whipped up at his name before he changed course, shoes slipping beneath him at his speed.

  "Freddy!" Gregory cried, barreling into the downed animatronic's open arms. The little robot scuttled after him, cymbals crashing. A nice, hard thwack with a crowbar sent him a fair bit down the race track and he shook his head, disorientated, before retreating back into the vents while dragging a leg.

  "I knew this thing was a good idea." I held my crowbar out before me appreciatively.

  "Y/n!" Gregory crashed into me next, squeezing me into a hug. "I thought you died!"

  "Why does everyone-?" I sighed, pulling Gregory into my stomach. "I'm not that easy to kill, okay?" He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and my amusement softened into sympathy. "I'm gonna be fine, kiddo, really."

  If this concussion-ghost combo doesn't finish me off first.

  "I watched-" Gregory choked on a sob. "I watched her hurt you. I'm sorry- I'm so sorry, I should've listened to you." He burst into real, proper tears for the first time and buried his head into me.

  My heart promptly broke at the sight. Gregory started the night so strong, almost unflappable, refusing to let himself show his fear. Now he was clinging to me and weeping into my shirt. I crouched down and pulled him into a tighter embrace. Nobody deserved to watch that. Nobody deserved to experience what he's been through.

  "It's not your fault," I reassured. The little boy trembled into my shoulder, sniffling and gasping for breath while my shirt grew wet. "You're not the one who hurt me. You shouldn't have been caught up in any of this." I pulled back to cup his face, scratched and bruised and covered in tears and snot. He looked so small in my hands. "You are so brave, Gregory. The bravest little boy I know."

  Gregory sniffled and nodded his head. Michael placed one of his large paws on his shoulder, almost engulfing him entirely, and smiled gently when the boy looked down at him. Gregory seemed to see Freddy's damage for the first time.

  "Are you hurt, too?" Gregory asked through a  sticky voice.

  "Ahh..." Freddy looked down at himself with a frown. "I think- think my malfunction has messed with my power core. It is getting diff- difficult to control this body."

  Gregory wiped his arm over his face. "Can we fix you?"

  "We just need- need to get to Parts and Services," Freddy reassured him. Gregory sighed in relief.

  I wondered if Michael was like me, telling Gregory what he wanted to hear rather than the truth. The possibility made my heart chill. If Freddy shut down, would Michael's soul be able to transfer to something else, or would he be stuck forever? But if he was able to, why hadn't he done so already in the past eight years he was in Freddy?

  "How do we get to Parts and Services?" Gregory asked.

  "There's a direct hall to it under the main stage," I answered. "The other way needs a manager's level pass and the one we nicked doesn't go that high. But we still have to look for a way to turn on the lift."

  "So we have to cut through that big room with the stage?" Gregory asked unsurely. "Isn't that place crawling with robots?"

  I sent an uneasy look over Freddy's state. "I think it's the only way to get Freddy back on his feet. We'll just have to be careful."

  "Okay..." Gregroy reluctantly agreed. "Where's the lift controls, then?"

  "There is- is a main power switch to the- the lift in an office behind me," Michael answered. "You must go and turn it on without me."

  My heart immediately sunk, but Gregory was the one who spoke up first, voice pitched with terror.

  "We're going to split up again?" Gregory cried. His small hands sunk into the front of his jersey for support. "But we saw what happened last time!"

  "Buddy," I said gently, "it's scary, I know, but Freddy needs to be fixed and he needs us to help him."

  Gregory shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He knew I was right but that didn't make it any easier to swallow - and I couldn't blame him. All Gregory and I had to defend ourselves was a torch and a crowbar, and they could only do so much damage.

  Still, that didn't make it any less important. Michael needed us.

  "Fine," Gregory sighed. I patted his shoulder with a proud smile and turned to Freddy.

  "Point us in the direction," I said.

  After being told exactly where to go, Gregory and I started on our way. We'd barely made it out of the Raceway when a small hand slipped into mine, latched on tightly. Gregory stared ahead when I looked down and smiled gently at the top of his messy hair.

   We snuck behind some security bots and crept past a prowling Monty a few yards away. The security office doors clung loudly when we closed them behind us, and a few moments later, the gator was banging his fists upon the door with a guttural, furious roar.

  Gregory and I stumbled back from the door at Monty's attack. I felt my heart in my throat, felt its individual beats as it thundered deafeningly. Gregory cast a fearful look my way and I tried to placate him with a calm smile. It trembled in the corners.

  "Come on," I said, ignoring the screens that showed Roxy approaching the other closed door to the security office. We flinched when she began railing down on it, too. "Let's find the lift controls."

  Gregory, with eyes blown wide in terror, nodded.

  A few moments of searching later, I found our prize sitting on the end of the desk behind a stack of paper files. When the light beside the label 'stage lift' illuminated, I released a sigh of relief. Our next challenge was getting out of the security office - Roxy and Monty were stubborn and hadn't left, prowling the area outside the only two exits.

  I caught my reflection in one of the screens as I watched them and baulked at the ghostly appearance that looked back. No wonder why Michael thought I was dead. Even with a bandage over my head, I still looked like a corpse. The dried blood staining rivers down my face didn't help.

  When I get out of here, I'm having a nice, long, hot shower. And then a bath. And then another shower. And then a month-long nap.

  "Look! It's Freddy," Gregory piped up. He pointed at one of the security office's monitors and, sure enough, Freddy was limping his way down the halls. He lifted his watch. "I can see you on the monitor. I didn't think you could stand up."

  Freddy's chuckle was hoarse and weak. "Consider it a sec- second wind."

  "Don't be reckless," I warned. Michael had a tendency to be so. "Monty and Roxy have us trapped here. The doors seem to be holding up."

  "They won't for- for long," Michael said gravely. He gave a hum in consideration. "Do you s-see the large vent in the floor? You are probably standing right on- on top of it. If I can reach the room under you, I should be able to force it-t open and let you out."

  Gregory and I scanned the floor to find what he was referring to. Indeed, a large grate sat in the middle of the office. "Got it," I said.

  "The doors still do- do not respond to me," Michael continued. "You will have to manually over- override them. Look for me on the monitors."

  Suddenly, the entire wall of screens glitched out and were replaced by multiple profiles of the white rabbit. She leant in with her hands curled against her face, giggling manically. Gregory stumbled back into me with a cry.

  "There you are!" she chirped, as though this were just some sick game of hide-and-seek. "All trapped for me. See you soon!"

  "She's coming for me!" Gregory shrilled frantically. He whipped his head around to send me a  frightened look. "She's gonna kill me just like she did with Kerin!"

  "She's not here, yet," I said reassuringly, though instinctively clutched my crowbar tighter. "Come on, help me find Freddy on the cameras."

  Gregory shakily turned to the monitors and scanned them with glossy eyes. We worked as a team, with Gregory calling out the name of the door and me finding the button labelled for it. It felt as though it took an eternity, but when I checked the time on the monitors, only a few minutes had passed. I had to do a double take at the time itself.

  How can it still be only two in the morning? This hell of a night was going to last forever.

  A dark chuckle resonated through my head and I jumped, spinning a frantic circle. My breath caught when I saw him, the yellow bunny with a purple bow, sitting on the desk and merrily swinging his feet. His unblinking pinprick eyes tore a hole straight through me.

  I took an instinctive step back, throat tight and twisted with apprehension. What tricks was he going to pull, now? Or was he just taunting me, igniting fear for the hell of it?

  He disappeared with a glitch and I released an exhale. Gregory looked at me weirdly. "Are you okay?" he asked.

  I nodded breathlessly. "Yeah, I'm- yeah."

  Gregory's brows furrowed tighter in doubt but the sound of something steel grating against metal made us look to the floor. Freddy had removed the grate for us to escape through.

  "Jump down!"

  With one last glance back at me, Gregory jogged forward and slipped down through the gap and into Freddy's waiting hands. I followed, falling for a short free fall before being caught by the waist and suffering through a flash of pain that stroked over my entire body. I tried to keep my wince as minimal as possible, but nothing escaped Michael.

  "Are you- you okay?" he asked as he carefully set me down to my feet.

  I nodded weakly. "I'll push through. Have to." It seemed we were both faring just as bad as the other. At least Gregory seemed relatively unharmed.

  He watched the two of us worriedly. We must've made quite a sight, a robot clinging to his last dredges of power and me seconds away from passing out.

  "Well done, G- Gregory," Freddy said with a proud smile down at the boy. Gregory smiled weakly back. "Follow me to- to the atrium. N- now that the lift controls are- are powered on, we can use the con- control panel for the- the stage."

  Gregory nodded and took Freddy's hand, letting the slow, limping animatronic lead the way to the atrium. I nervously grasped at my crowbar as I followed. My headache had ascended to nausea, twisting grossly in my stomach and making me feel as though I'd upchuck at any given moment. I briefly wondered how much worse I'd feel once the adrenaline and shock faded.

  The exit Michael found was close to the stage. There weren't many security bots to dodge, which was good, because Freddy's pace was too slow to avoid much of the roving bots. He was all but crawling along the floor by the time we made it to the stage. Freddy stood lopsidedly, teetering dangerously close to misbalancing and falling flat on his face.

  "My systems a- are failing," he said in a staticky, rundown version of his voice. "G- go to the sound booth on the- the third floor balcony. There sh- should be a lever that- that lowers the stage. Y- you will have to run ba- back quickly." He looked between Gregory and I with real fear in his eyes. "Please, hurry. I will- will wait here."

  Gregory and I grimly nodded before taking off towards the balconies. The white rabbit or William or whoever was in control must've known we were headed to the atrium, because Chica and Roxy prowled the space while Monty searched the dark floor with one of the stage's spotlights. We carefully avoided that, the bots and the girls, and by the time we made it to the first stairwell, we were out of breath.

  "I don't know how Freddy thinks we can get back to the stage in time when the lift starts," Gregory said as he panted.

  "It's slow and takes a moment before it starts to work," I answered from my spot against the wall. "It needs to be replaced soon, honestly."

  "Huh," Gregory said between puffs. "Okay." 

  We continued up the stairs until we reached the control booth on the third floor. Thankfully, I knew where the lift button was, so Gregory and I prepared ourselves for the sprint back, pressed the button, and we were back off down the stairs.

  My head pounded with each step I took but I pushed on, navigating through staff bots and praying that neither Roxy nor Chica spotted us. The loud 'clank' of the lift activating spared us a few seconds as attentions snapped towards the stage, and I held my breath for a moment before relaxing when everyone went back to their searches. If they'd decided to investigate the sound, we'd be fucked.

  The spotlight found us.

  Gregory and I both froze beneath the light and I cursed under my breath. We were both so focused on getting back to the stage that we forgot about the spotlight. Monty gave a mighty, bone-trembling roar.

  "Run! Go!" I said, pushing Gregory into a sprint. He did so immediately, face taut with fright. We ignored the staff bots, running straight through their paths while Monty's heavy footsteps approached at a steady run, gaining a small crowd of followers.

  We shrieked as a table came flying overhead and landed before us, splintering into chunks of wood. The distraction cost us a few seconds and I had to whack away a staff bot's outstretched arm with my crowbar.

  Another table landed just behind us, showering us with rubble and destroying some of the staff bots in the process. I grabbed Gregory's hand and hauled him along with me as I booked it to the stage where the lift was slowly lowering.

  "Dammit, why'd they make Monty so strong?!" I hissed while racing up the side stairs to the stage. Freddy was watching us, helpless in his bent-over position of almost powering down. His head was barely visible from where the stage was lowering. I pushed Gregory down into Freddy's arms and followed, landing awkwardly on the ground beside them with a flare of pain in my ankles.

  When I managed to look up I found Monty had finally caught up, peering over the lip of the stage's hole, growls audible even from here. He knew he couldn't make the jump. I exhaled in relief.

  "Great j- job," Freddy said. Gregory was still in his arms and clinging to him with a grip that would choke a normal human. "It- it will only be- be a short walk to Parts and Services from- from here."

  I rested against his side and panted for breath. I was pretty sure that I'd done more exercise in the last couple of hours than in the past year, and my body was starting give out on me. My head, my back, my ankle - what part of me was going to get injured next? My ass?

  Something scraped against the wall once the lift reached the bottom. Gregory heard it first, gaze shifting over the dark room warily as he remained in Freddy's arms. His eyes slowly shifted to me. "What was that?"

  I quietly shook my head as I turned a slow circle. No idea. The shadows loomed though, and anything could be hiding in them. My throat was suddenly parched, my hands clammy. Something was waiting for us in the dark.

  "It's Moon!" Gregory suddenly cried while pointing at one corner. My attention snapped to where he was staring at and found a pair of glowing red eyes watching us from the shadows, slowly approaching, stalking like a predator. Freddy took a step back before almost crumbling to the ground, and his ears pinned back. He was a sitting duck.

  "I will hold- hold him off," Michael gravely declared. I looked up at him incredulously.

  "Are you insane?" I exclaimed. "You're lucky to be standing as is! You can't take him on!"

  "Y/n, please." He pinned me with a desperate look while he set Gregory down to his feet. Moon crept closer. "I am a-aware of the risks. It may be- be the only way to keep Gregory safe." 

  My throat began to swell as a swarm of horrors bloated my brain. All of them had the same outcome; Freddy destroyed and Michael gone, once again. Michael gone and leaving me alone for another indeterminate amount of years, maybe forever, and me having to deal with the grief of losing him for the second time.

  I defiantly shook my head against his reckless idea. "Please. I can't do this without you!" My hands clenched over the crowbar as I tried to keep my breathing even, to not burst into tears in front of Gregory. "Not again, Michael, dammit! You said! You promised me!"

  "Y/n-" Michael tried to say, but I interjected him.

  "No, no, no!" I shook my head again, lips thinned with desperation. My eyes stung. I patted my chest in sacrifice. "I'll face Moon, I'll do it-"

  "You c-cannot."

  "Why not?!" I shot back, nearly in hysterics. I couldn't lose him, not again, not here. "Why do you have to risk yourself-?!"

  He stepped toward me so fast that I barely saw him move, and then he was bent over me, a monster of a different kind, one with his maw curled over fangs and a fury that was more Michael than it was Freddy. Gregory watched owlishly, glancing between us and Moon.

  "Because I am already dead!" Michael seethed in a snarl that made me startle. "I am dead, Y/n, and death like this is a pain I loathe to be yours."

  It wasn't Freddy's voice that rang in the silence of backstage. It was Michael's. It was his voice, his soul that shoved through Freddy's programming and punctured himself into the limbo between possession and material. I could almost see him, a ghostly visage pushing himself from the vessel of the animatronic he was stuck in.

  I stared at him silently, and all the while Moon slowly crawled across the room, watching the interaction and waiting for the moment to strike. Freddy pulled himself back upright and cleared the frustration from his face, turned to face the threat. Gregory slowly sunk back into my hold as the Daycare Attendant stalked forward.

  "T- take Gregory, Y/n," Freddy said. "And run."